


Family Heirlooms

by PreAlexa



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Outlander & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Outlander Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Not Beta Read, Novella, Paranormal, Romance, Sexual Content, Some Humor, Stonehenge Base, Strong Female Characters, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-08-19 18:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreAlexa/pseuds/PreAlexa
Summary: When Tara Maclay finds her heirloom necklace broken, she must find the right jeweler to fix it. She stumbles across an ad for a jeweler and antiquities specialist, by the name of Willow Rosenberg.





	1. Legacy of a Stone - A Broken Heirloom

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2003 and updated a few things here and there, but mainly it is what it is. It was my first foray into fan-fiction with two of my favorite characters in the Buffyverse.

"Damn."

She looked down at her pendant, the jump ring which the chain ran through had broken completely and the bezel was cracked. It was her favorite pendant and the stone was old...perhaps fragile, if not handled well, as there were some flecked flaws permeating through out. It was something her mother had given to her days before she passed away. She watched her mother wear it as she grew from a child into a woman and knew it would be hers one day...just not expected so soon. But then, it usually always is too soon for such things.

Some vague history of the stone was given to her from stories her mother told her as a child. It was quarried from the same site as Stonehenge back in the early 19th century. The Celts has taken sections of stone slabs, from the ancient site, and made ornate symbols of their beliefs, incorporating the elements of their magic into each piece they created. Her mother had the stone set in a silver bezel with delicate beadwork ornamenting around the diameter of the cabochon. It lent some protection for those who wore it as sometimes the pendant would radiate fierce heat or turn icy cold at inopportune moments. Once, while she was in math class, the pendant had come to rest underneath her blouse, laying against the divot between her collarbone. As the professor droned on about logarithms, the piece became fiercely hot, embedding itself partially into her skin. She reared out of her seat, spilling her books across the floor and ran to the bathroom, tears of burning pain streaming from her eyes. Once in the bathroom, safe from others, she peered into the open V-neck of her blouse to see a perfectly formed, oval red mark where the pendant had seared. It happened rarely but she knew better than to have it exposed to her skin.

Even now, laying in her hand, she could feel the increased warmth it generated. Usually, it meant something was about to change in her life. The moment it burned into her skin, on that fateful day in class, creating a perfect impression of its existance, she knew her mother had died.

_________________________________

"I don't trust anyone to work on this..." she said aloud as she rolled it between the palm of her hands. The precious gem cut from the slabs of the Stonehenge site no longer radiated the fiece heat. She doubted the pendant would have an affect on a non-sensitive being. However, she did some research on the stone and had read similar stories of other people experiencing such extremes in sensations when holding it, but usually only witches; women in particular. A bench jeweler was a man's world. It was more likely a man would work on her piece, but she needed gentle hands, and she had to have some faith the right jeweler would make a subconscious calling to her needs. "I have to have this fixed." She hoped to find someone who would take extreme care with such a sentimental piece. It was beyond ancient...it contained the essence of her family.

She flipped through Yelp in search of a qualified jeweler, hoping some store, or someone, might call out to her in the blurry light of her computer, through her tired eyes, and beyond the desperate flashy sales pitches the websites used to bring in more customers. Their exaggerated and useless way of wording never seemed appealing. She had no choice. She had to have the pendant fixed.

Fortunately, she found a small shop underneath a few prominent ones which simply read:

"Heirloom quality and care given for all precious metal wear. Personal treasures are priceless."

With it was a phone number and a name. She read the name of the jeweler. Willow Rosenberg. Unusual, to see it was. A woman working with jewelry repairs. She instinctively felt she could trust this name. A woman would probably take extraordinary care in handling this. Usually women do. She decided to call the number in front of her, trusting her inner voice which guided her in proper directions. She hoped she could schedule an appointment immediately to bring the piece in to be fixed. She hoped for the courage to pick up the phone without stuttering so much. Calling people made her uncomfortable and nervous. She took in a breath, slowly exhaled, and dialed the number on her cell.

"Good afternoon, this is Willow of Heirloom's speaking. How may I be of help?"

Tara was drawn to the voice. It had just a bit of a squeak to which endeared her already. The voice was warm, cheerful and pleasant. Tara processed the gentle vibrations and then proceeded to speak, without as much success.

"Um, y..yes...I have...a..an unusual item...it's very old....with an old stone..wh..wh.. which needs to be fixed. It..it..it broke and I'm needing someone who can f..f...fix it. Please." Realizing she barely managed a clean sentence, she attempted her question again.

"Um...the pendant, I mean, uh not the stone...a..a..and I was hoping you might be available for me to bring it in later today?"

"Absolutely! My store hours are 10-6 and as long as you're here before closing, I can take the time to examine your piece, and you can tell me about the history of it, where it came from, the stone that's in it and what you know. This way, I can take extreme care when I work on it. It helps to know the details really."

"Oh..wow..um..yes...that's great...good, that's wonderful. I'll be in as soon as I can. Thank you."

Willow perked at the sound of the woman's voice on the other end. It had a richness to it, aside from the stuttering of nerves, and she liked it from the start. The voice had a tonal quality she found fascinating. In fact, she was quite eager to meet this mystery voice and the mystery pendant which came with her. "Okay, then, you're welcome and I'll see you soon."

Both hung up, unaware that each were overcome by sudden jitters in meeting the new voice on the other end of the phone line.

As Willow hung up the phone, she was filled with curiosity of what the face might look like behind the dulcet voice. She hoped they'd match. Much too often there’s a nice voice with a, let’s be honest, less nice of a face. It was shallow and brutal of her to think, but the dating sites she’d been on always lied to her. The men weren’t remotely like their profile pics and talking to them made her feel agitated and uncomfortable. "I have really got to get a life. Or maybe a girlfriend..." The hopeful promise of something new wasn't ever far from her thoughts. She thrived on challenges and change wasn't something which usually frightened her. But why were the butterflies so pronounced? Why was it, in the 5 minutes since she hung up the phone, she was overcome by this new client wanting to get an old pendant fixed? Perhaps because she really didn't want to screw this up. She didn't want to do something wrong, or damage the pendant, or worse, to upset this woman. The woman who already filled every space of her mind with just her voice. Her mind was racing. "Okay, Self, just get over this and concentrate on what you have to do right now."

She went back to her bench and sat at her chair. She picked up the flex shaft and began to drill out a setting for an oval Preseli Bluestone that she had found on her travels a few months back. She had found the chunk of rock by a tumbling stream and was taken with the way it sparkled in the light. It wasn't exactly the most colorful or ornate of rocks, but she found calm in the earth tones of greens and blues, dotted with specks of gold. She clearly remembered how warm to the touch it was the moment she picked it up. Soothing, calming and almost vibrating...she suppose the heat of the day and the bright sun had something to do with it.

She inquired about the stone at a local gem and rocks shop, when she stopped off at Wales, and was given a historical preview of this particular quarry of stone. The older gentlemen behind the counter was rather adamant that she put it back where she found it. He said there was bad luck to be had when taking something ancient from where it came to rest. She didn’t much care for outdated superstitions. She was a practicing Witch, albeit a newer one, and her reasoning for keeping this gem was that it found her. She’d come to realize sooner than expected how true her words rang.

When she got back to the States, she called upon an old lapidary friend to take the rough cut and create some larger cabochons from it. She wasn't overwhelmed with much work this time of year and the idea of creating a little something for herself was certainly a novel idea. She was a jeweler, yet she owned very little in the way of jewelry for herself. This stone was special and she was going to treat herself.

Tara's heart pounded beneath her breast. The stone in her hand was still warm but she knew it was because of the way she clutched at it while on the phone with the jeweler. Willow, the jeweler. Willow. A woman jeweler. She liked the way the name rolled off her tongue. She thought best to get out of her frumpy shirt and put on something more decent. She found a light blue shirt with intricate patterns lightly laced through out. She liked the way the blue accented her eyes, although normally she was quite reticent about highlighting any of her features. Still, she felt compelled to look less dowdy for Willow. Willow. As if she were on a first name basis with her already. As if she was preparing for a date. This was ridiculous...she needed her pendant fixed because without it, she felt lost, and the strength of her heritage rested well within it. Logically, she knew this to be true, but her mind rolled the name over and over again. Willow.

"Which jeans should I wear..." She found a dark, low-rise pair and squeezed them on. The shirt just reaching the belt loops would occasionally reveal the soft, creamy flesh of her belly. Oh yes. She was working it. She thought the subtlety would be lost on someone uninterested anyway so what did she have to lose. So much for being shy. All this because of a voice. Willow voice.

Tara got into her car and drove the 3 miles to the jewelry store. It was located in a posh, quaint part of town. Not the most popular hot spot of the area but she liked the way the Victorian homes framed the business district. This place was comfortable for her and she knew her way very well on this side. There was a fantastic coffee house just a block from where she was headed. She enjoyed taking Friday nights and listening to the story tellers and poets read their material over a good java.

She could see the small building in front of her. It was a cute little place. Her senses told her she had picked well and although she was nervous, she instinctively felt she had landed herself in capable hands. She opened the door to her car, pulled herself out, straightened up her shirt, pulled the legs of her jeans back into her boots, put her hand through her hair, shut the door, took a breath, and headed toward the front of the store.

Willow looked up from her work as soon as she heard the pleasant jingling of the door chimes. The light nearly blinded her, as the glass windows this time of day intensified the sunlight. She could just make out the silhouette of a woman...

"Uh, hello! Are you the one who called me earlier?"

"Um, hi. Uh, yes. That's m..m..me."

Still unable to focus on the face yet, a slightly nervous Willow walked up to the front and prepared to greet her new customer. What she saw when she finally could see past the glare took the breath from her chest.

As Willow focused on the form before her, the first thing she noticed were the blue eyes. She fell into them, unable to look away. She saw something familiar within them. A new friend. At the very least, perhaps a new friend? The woman’s eyes shone of purity, intensity, gentleness, intelligence...and...and just a hint of seduction? Was that only her imagination? ‘Projection much, Willow?’ she noted to herself.

Tara grasped at the chain loosely dangling between her fingers which now threatened to spill onto the floor. She was standing eye to eye with the most amazing pair of green eyes she'd ever seen. They were captivating and intriguing, welcoming and inquisitive. She felt her body flutter a bit, the little fine hairs standing up on her arms and the back of her neck. They both stared at the other a bit too long and each were all too aware of the awkward silence.

"Um, hi, I'm...I'm Tara...nice to meet you." She jut forward her hand, in the process dropping her chain to the floor as predicted.

"Oh, hey, I'm Willow, of course, as I guess you knew that when you called!" She chuckled nervously. Willow instinctively reached out for Tara's hand but saw the chain hit the floor, and being polite and proper, she felt momentarily stuck as to which she should do first. Shake her hand or get the chain. The three second clause ran through her mind but that was with food usually, right? But already faced with the awkward momentum of going downward she decided she'd grab the chain and on the way up, she'd drop it into the woman's hand before grabbing a handshake. 'I'm being entirely mental!', as she bent over.

As she neared reaching for the chain she felt the collision of something against her head, and realized she and Tara had just clunked noggins.

"Oooph!"

"Ow!"

"Oh, I am so sorry, Tara! I was trying to be helpful, and...and you see what that does? By the way I'm not insured..." She fumbled over the humor, probably lost to the blonde. What a great way to make introductions. Trying again she redirected, "Um. Are you okay??"

Tara looked upwards into wide, concerned eyes as she gingerly rubbed the side of her head. "I..I..I'm fine, thanks. I'm sorry, too...for being so c..c..clumsy."

"No way, it was totally my fault! I should have seen that coming and I didn't...I just didn't want your nice chain to be left on the floor where everybody's feet are."

Willow gathered her nerves and stuck out her hand, this time approaching Tara. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

Tara smiled, amused at the way the redhead tried to make an embarrassing situation less difficult to endure. She really was enthralled with her cute and quirky personality. She reached for the hand which eagerly awaited contact.

The stone, which was held in Tara's free hand, had started to vibrate, a slow purring hum of energy. The closer she neared Willow's hand, the more it released energy, pocketing warmth all throughout Tara's palm. When contact was finally made, the stone ceased its gentle humming but maintained the heat source. Change was about to begin and Tara knew it, with or without the stone's help..

Willow had forgotten she held some pieces of the stone she found in Wales in her left hand, as she was inspecting them for use in wire-wrapping a few pendants to sell. Her left hand began to hum and vibrate and it took her a second to realize it was coming from the stones the moment she took Tara's hand. Mystified, they both stood surprised at the release of energies each had transferred. Their eyes were firmly locked, unwilling to let go of a much too long handhold.

Tara was the first to draw her eyes away. She looked at the hand which held her grasp and marveled at how well it fit into her own. She knew it as clear as the sun shone she was bitten. She was in like with Willow already. She had to look away now. She felt she was vibing way too much and Willow would probably...no definitely be uncomfortable with the energy.

Willow, caught up in nerves and awkwardness, was the first to speak, wondering if she upset her new customer. Judging from the way she looked, she was sure she had. Damn. She was uncomfortable but she couldn't have Tara leave yet. The tingling of the gemstone in her hand was more than just chance. She thought the gemstone of Tara's necklace looked rather familiar, too, from her quick glance after knocking heads collecting the chain off her floor.

"Well. Yes. It's very nice to meet you a..a..and...um..." She turned around, fidgeting, looking for something to hold as she clearly missed the touch of Tara's warm, soft hand in her own. "Didn't you say something about a b...b...bezel you wanted me to look at?" She was stuttering now. It made her sound unsure of herself. Maybe she was. She quickly looked back into Tara's gaze and was still captivated, no haunted, by the eyes of this woman. The beguiling blue eyes. Surely these projections were only in her mind. It was truthfully, horribly, wretchedly erotic. Oh, and the smile. Oh no, not something else to focus on. It was hard enough to focus on the matters at hand. Tara had the sweetest little dimple just peeking through each time she hinted at a smile.

But Tara's slight smile was for other reasons. She dropped her head, eyes back to the floor. Tara cast the rejection well. She was used to it. Not that anyone ever gets used to rejection...but she built up a wall and learned to deal with it. Clearly, she had made Willow nervous. She must have felt the instant connection when they touched? She didn't let go of her hand, either. She sure stared at her a long while. Now, she couldn't tell much from Willow's posturing other than she was taken by the effects, too. But how she took it was still questionable.

The stone was silent now. Tara opened up the palm of her hand to reveal the coveted pendant. "This is it. This is... this was my mother's...and she gave it to me before she...passed away. It's very special to me."

She leaned forward to study the pendant in Tara's hand. She could detect a faint perfume permeating around her hair. That was when she knew. She was attracted. Like the proverbial bee to a buttercup, she was wanting the nectar of the woman before her.

"May I hold it, Tara?" ('May I hold, you, Tara?' is what she really wanted to ask.)

"Oh, yes..s...s...sorry! Of course."

Willow reached for the pendant in those silky hands. Her fingertips brushed against Tara's again, eliciting a spark between them. In fact, Willow swore she could see the spark of energy arc between their fingertips. Startled, she fumbled with the pendant and nearly dropped it. Was it the spark of them, or the energies of the gemstones they each carried, or both? Perhaps the stones are responsible for bringing them together? 'Too many thoughts, Willow! Too many! Calm down!'

”I seem to have the case of the dropsies. I hope this doesn't concern you when I work on the pendant."

"No, I trust you."

"Well, it's not like I haven't done this kind of repair hundreds of times, but I admit I'm nervous about..."

"I trust you." Tara repeated, firmly, with clarity and conviction in those sky blue eyes of hers. She tentatively reached out for Willow's arm, lightly brushing it with her fingers. She couldn't get enough of Willow touching. Any excuse to express reassurance would momentarily satisfy her need. She knew she was pushing boundaries but something inside kept her bold, kept her piqued. After all, the stone didn't say 'no'.

Willow gently smiled, appreciating the soothing tone in this woman's voice. She appreciated her confidence. Again, they locked gazes. Willow had to do something otherwise she would find herself kissing this blonde standing inches away. What on Earth had gotten into her? Tara was was looking down at her feet, adjusting her shirt, and Willow felt she had done injustice to her by being alarmingly open so quickly.

"Let me take a look at this stone and the setting and see what I can do for you, okay?"

Willow walked back to her bench. The strain it took to force space between her and Tara was agonizing. It was miserable. She took the loupe from her bench and studied the stone carefully. It was dull and had obviously been worn and weathered with abrasions. But as she studied closely, it looked very familiar. It was a deep, forest green, with flecks of gold, and when she turned it in the light just right, it would shimmer with blue hues. She knew for certain this was the same type of stone! And from the same quarry in Wales! What were the odds of somebody walking in with such an uncommon gem...she turned back towards Tara, simply amazed with the coincidence.

"I have a stone much like this, too, Tara. I found it when I was in Wales. It's called a Preseli Bluestone...did you know that?"

Tara was taken aback with this information. It was somewhat uncommon for those in the States to recognize a stone like this. Even for a jeweler. But she knew that Willow was no ordinary jeweler. She sensed Willow might have some powers. An unpracticed Witch, but embedded with natural powers which excited her. Maybe a new Wicca friend to work on ritual spells or Tarot readings. Maybe a bit more.

"Yes, I did. It's quarried from the same site Stonehenge was constructed from. It's a sacred piece, this particular one, designed from the ancient Druids of that time. It's been passed down from woman to woman in our family for generations."

"Wow. This really *is* an heirloom..."

"I guess so." Tara felt shy again.

Willow wanted to continue, not ready to end the conversation. "What you just said? That's what the man told me when I was visiting Wales...he also said not to take it from where it rested, but I did anyway. I hope I didn't call upon any bad karma!" She heckled a bit, her hands moving about as if trying to ward off fruit flies.

Tara gave her an upturned grin, slightly raising her head to meet Willow's eyes and to admire that cute body in motion. "My grandmother told me, when I was a little girl, a story of how this stone had protected her through out her lifetime. Before she died, she and my mother infused an ancient Celtic spell into the stone to help give protection or warning. It's been done every other generation or so. I'll have to do it again. This may sound really weird...but the stone changes temperature frequently...it can be sudden."

Willow noticed the stutter simply vanished when Tara spoke of her mother and grandmother, her history, of knowledge of what she was comfortable with sharing. Again, Willow chanced a bold maneuver, taking a few long strides to close the space between them. Standing just inches away, she returned a confident and competent look into Tara's eyes. If ever a moment to convey a message without many words, this was it.

"That doesn't sound weird at all. You know, I’m a practicing Witch, but not nearly as practicing as you and your family. I found a similar gemstone from the same quarry. It called to me. It was warm and tingled in my hand. I think that's why I was compelled to 'take' it. The piece made me feel we belonged to each other. So, I’m happy to fix your necklace, if you’re okay with that."

Tara found herself lost in those green eyes again. At this moment, Willow could offer to throw the pendant in the Mississippi and she'd be okay with it. She inwardly chided herself for being so obvious. The moment she saw the Willow’s tiny internet ad, there was an inexplicable connection for Tara. The woman looking back at her gave no direct clues that it was reciprocal...but she could hope...and if she played her cards right, she would have at least a new Wiccan friend when all was said and done. That was better than what she had before. Tara nodded a yes at Willow's request.

The large grandfather clock struck its chord, startling them both from their reverie. Willow saw it was closing time. She didn't want the young woman leave already but the leaving was inevitable.

"Would you be alright if I kept this over the weekend so I could study it more in depth? I'd like to scrutinize the stone to make sure there are no extreme fractures. If I need to apply some heat with the stone intact, I must know if it will tolerate it."

"Yes, of course, W..W...Willow." Ah, she did it again. She stuttered. And she stuttered her name of all things. She felt silly and childish. "Take the time you need to do it right." She managed to rush the sentence out successfully, thank goodness, albeit low and monotone. Willow probably thought she was unimpressed. Truth was, she was floored with all these coincidences, and feeling terribly giddy inside.

Willow proceeded to shut down the shop and turn off all the equipment, but decided to hold out the with the bookkeeping until the following Monday. She couldn't concentrate and walking Tara to her car was primary on her list of objectives. She escorted the blonde out the door and set the alarm for the store. Her mind went blank. What was her alarm number again?

Tara.

'Oh no.'

Willow felt herself go in mental babble mode. Again.

'Okay, think, Willow. What is the number?'

Tara.

'Oh, come on! Willow, get a grip!'

Tara.

'She's standing behind me'. 'I can feel her there'. 'I can smell her perfume'. 'I want her.' 'What am I thinking??'

Willow let out an audible, frustrated exhale. Silently she pleaded with herself to focus. 'What is the damn number, you doofus!'

"Are you okay, Willow?" Tara reached out to gently touch her shoulder. The gesture made the redhead shudder. Again.

The numbers finally flooded her mind. 'Oh thank God!' *1*4*8*4. The alarm light went green. She composed herself and turned to face the blonde again. Unwittingly, Tara affected each and every sense. "Yes, yes, I'm fine...thanks. I sometimes have trouble with the keypad." A small lie. Okay, a big lie.

They both stood outside, breathing in the warm evening air for as long as permissible given the outrageous awkwardness of what just transpired. Willow was barely professional here. Any other client would have found another jeweler by the way Willow was behaving. Each woman remained silent, without the words to relay how each marveled their budding connection, yet each uncertain if the other felt it the same way. Tara simply touching Willow's shoulder was enough to have her go wobble-kneed.

"So...sh...sh...should I call you first or will you call me when you have it fixed?"

"Oh!" Willow went through the exaggerated motions of smacking her forehead. "Of course! I forgot to take your information inside. I was so impressed with the piece and the history of it, I completely overlooked that one, teeny aspect." Another small lie. She was so impressed with Tara she forgot to register much of anything.

Tara saw Willow blush. "Um, here is my business card. Feel free to call me at either of those numbers. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you, Willow. It was v...very nice to meet you."

She couldn't help but drop an octave on the last couple of words. How was it possible to fall so quickly for someone? Tara refused to wait for any logical answer. She chose to follow the path of her heart and hoped it might meet up with Willow's.

Tara moved forward to grasp Willow's hand in one last final goodbye of the evening. The contact of energy surged through abruptly and again left Tara feeling breathless. The electricity was apparent, but that would have to wait. Neither knew where the other stood. Even in plain sight, sometimes the very things which are in front are the last to be seen.


	2. Coffee and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow runs into Tara at a local coffee shop where they both admire the host speaker.

Tara sat at the coffee house the next evening, having heard about one of her favorite authors offering a free book signing. Some local college students were doing poetry readings afterwards. She didn't have a lot in the way of novelty books but did enjoy the simplicity of listening to other people express themselves lyrically. The espresso wasn't so bad, either. The crowd was gathering and she was glad she came early. She reserved a little table for herself off to the side of the stage. It was in front enough to observe but resting well within the shadows of the room to remain unnoticed. No one would bother her here.

Tara felt a gentle tapping on her shoulder and she spoke before turning in her seat. "No, I'm fine thanks but maybe the next go-around...." As she finished turning, she saw Willow standing over her shoulder.

"Hey, Willow! W...w...what are you doing here? I mean, of course you can be here. I mean. I mean, I'm glad you're here." Oh, god, why couldn't she be as poetic as the poetic waxing she heard upon that stage a few feet away.

"Hey, Tara. Good to see you, too! A..a..and can I get you another coffee?" She grinned from ear to ear before continuing. "Yeah, I come here sometimes when I need a mocha fix...and when I want to hear other people talk about problems greater than my own."

Tara gave her a full smile, those enticing plush lips were all Willow could stare at.

"Would you like to have a seat...here...with me?" Tara nervously gestured to the empty chair next to her.

"Oh..well....ah, I came with someone else but I don't think she'd mind. Considering her husband is the one who's doing the book signing, she'll probably be busy with getting him prepared and all. I'll check in and make sure, okay?"

"No, I understand. You should be helping her out." She nodded, forcing a warm smile on her face. She wondered if she had come on too strong. If maybe her weak attempts at an invite were overlooked by more important people Willow had to sit with. After all, Willow was pretty important in this town, being a specialist in her field. Surely, she had lots of attention. She knew the author and that was impressive. Tara was a counselor, which wasn't unimportant, but definitely not as interesting, or at least she thought so.

She turned back in her chair and lifted the coffee to her lips. No sooner had she taken a sip when a bubbly redhead joined the seat next to her.

"Oh, hey! That didn't take long!" Tara said, rather bemused.

"Is this okay, still?" Willow looked concerned, a bit worried she may have pounced too soon on the invite.

"Yes! Oh yes. I'm glad you came..." Tara held her head up, looked at her warmly with a sideways glance and gave her another reassuring smile.

"If sitting next to you rewards me with a new friend, a great smile, and gets me out of book duty, I'll be sure to do this more often!" Willow happily grinned in return, quite delighted with seeing Tara in one of her favorite coffeehouse hang-outs. She was taking much pleasure in her new friend. "I had to go back to the shop a bit ago to get some forms and I also wanted look over your bezel setting for the stone. We can talk more about it after the book signing...if you want to stay a bit later?"

Tara felt warmed inside and let herself bask in the compliment. She enjoyed the way Willow was looking at her. She definitely didn't need the stone to tell her something dynamic might be unfolding between them.

After the main author had spoken and done his signings, to which a very excited Tara had been waiting months to see him speak about his new novel on the magical 13th century witches and their craft, and Willow, with her connections, even gave her a free book in the process, then the more light-hearted poetry readings began. Throughout, the author’s speech, Tara snuck glances at Willow. The auburn haired beauty sat straight in her seat, eyes and senses alert to the author on stage. Her lips moved ever so slightly as she listened. She was completely adorable. She had some experience in two other relationships with women. They were sweet and caring for what they were but nothing like what she was feeling for Willow; a person she's known for just under 2 days. She wasn't sure if Willow liked girls in the same way. She would just have to remain content with this knowledge even if there was more than casual flirting going on between them. Tara gathered herself to ask if Willow would like another mocha, as she was on her way to refill her cup anyway.

Willow agreed but asked to accompany the blonde to the café. She didn't wish to spend one moment away from the beautiful woman beside her. She intended to ask more about the stone when she found a free moment and felt this might be the chance for elaboration. She had studied it earlier in the day to be sure that it wouldn't break under any conditions which might require some stress and heat. Truthfully, she wasn't sure. She told the blonde she could repair it easily, but inwardly she had nerves about it. The bezel around the stone didn't leave much information. It was old and appeared very fragile. The cabochons she had cut from the quarried rough were smoother and more polished than this piece, although they were of the same gem family. She was skilled at such antiques and rarities, but this one made her especially nervous. The pendant was icy to the touch when Willow handled it. She kept turning Tara's words over in her mind. 'The stone changes temperature frequently...it can be sudden.' Perhaps it could take the glancing heat of a torch well enough. Maybe those fissures and fractures in the stone occurred from its mysterious heat source. She was concerned it might be beyond her own skill range. She just didn't want to damage a family heirloom of this caliber. She was nervous to work on it but didn't want to turn Tara away, either.

That and the fact Tara also said it was imparted with an ancient Celtic spell caused her brow to wrinkle a time or two. She had wondered if the rock she had found, by the brook in Wales, had been hammered and chinked from the Celts. It had been warm to the touch...but then, as she logically tried to induce, it could have simply been the warmth of the sun infusing its heat source into the stone. She had begun to wonder what kind of magic Tara and her family practiced. She had dabbled herself in some rituals, a few spells, but mostly her magic seemed smoke and mirrors. Nothing really significant came from it, other than a few floating pencils or self blowing bubble gum.

It also didn't help matters that she thought she was falling in love with Tara...and with a woman no less. After two days, no less. She had toyed with the idea of a romantic relationship with a woman before but hadn't seriously considered the alternative route. Partially because she *was* attracted and knew her core self preferred the attentions of another female...even if it was a part of herself she struggled admitting. But as her heart pounded beneath her breast, she was finding the belief that she may have, indeed, found someone very special. She was extremely nervous again. They refilled their coffee glasses and headed back to the table, exchanging frequent glances and smiles along the way. As soon as each were situated, Willow thought up of a proposal.

"Tara? I was meaning to ask you more about this pendant of yours. When do you think you could find a moment to talk to me about it?" Hoping to open up an opportunity for further discussion/advancement, Willow put it in a way that might lead to some 'getting to know you better' time.

Tara understood. If she was reading Willow at all, her senses told her to take advantage of any opportunity, whether the pendant was the real cause or not. She was willing to take chances. Especially if it meant to be with Willow a little longer.

"I'm free tonight, after this, if you want..."

"Really? That sounds great actually. We could go to my place a..a..and we can talk about it over..." She raised one eyebrow, shyly before she continued. "Over a night cap...maybe?" Willow then groaned at herself. "Why did that sound amazingly lame?"

Tara's heart skipped a few beats. Was Willow aware of the chemistry between them? She gently laughed, then looked at the redhead serious again, attempting her own brand of humor.

"Wanna ask me my sign, too?"

Willow helplessly stared, reveling in the way Tara moved her head as she spoke and held a twinkle in her eye as she teased.

Feeling flushed, Tara couldn't contain her smile any longer. "How about my place instead. I've got a great bottle of wine just begging to be opened and I've got some books and documents on the pendant itself. There are some incantation rituals on the blessing of the stone, too...it may interest you."

'Oh yes. Definitely interesting,' Willow thought to herself. For someone who came from a straight-laced background, she was barely on reserve tonight. This was more than mere sexual excitement and she felt it. The innuendos were becoming far too obvious.

"I'd like that very much." Willow stood up from her chair and held out her hand, quietly hoping Tara might take it. "Shall we then?"

Tara, nearly disbelieving things were moving in a direction she was hoping for, slid her fingertips into the open palm awaiting her. Both recognized the immediate connected energy ebb and flow between their beings. It was dynamic. Certainly, it was a once in a life time chemistry.

Tara stood from her chair, uncaring if eyes were upon them instead of the person orating from the small stage. She felt as if she and Willow were the players on the stage and all eyes should be on them. It was as if a fine play was being written in front of a large audience and they should appreciate what was unfolding before them, because, before them indeed, something amazing was happening. She let Willow lead her from the coffee house and out the front entrance. It would take a fool not to notice something magical was developing between these two women and they, themselves, were no fools.

"D..d..do you want to follow me, Willow?"

Tara's stutter, a clear sign of her nervousness, only served to further melt Willow's heart.

"I could. Or I could just go with you...if...if you want me to."

Tara nodded warmly, still clutching Willow's hand, and took the lead to walk around the corner to where she was parked. She opened the door for the redhead and waited for her to get in, before walking around to the driver's side. Before she did, she looked upwards, into the cloudness night, and whispered a silent 'thank you' to the full moon which shone brilliantly down, bathing its blue-white light onto her face and soaking into her spirit.

The trip back to her house, although just a few miles away, was quiet. Both women were deep in thought, yet acutely aware of the silence. As Tara drove into the driveway, she pulled the car to a stop and turned to face Willow.

"Here we are. This is where I live."

She waited to see Willow's expression but the redhead was transfixed with the view in front of her. "C'mon, I'll get us a glass of wine and show you those documents."

Willow sat in the car as Tara clamored out, grabbing a briefcase and some books from the back seat. Willow had her one hand on the door handle but sat in hesitation. Not because she didn't want this...but because she was caught in the beauty of Tara's home. It was an older, Victorian style, two story home. The antique shutters were open on all the windows except for the very top part of the attic, to which were closed. There were an array of potted flowers around the edges of the house, and even in the moonlight, she could tell they were rich with a tapestry of colors. The house spoke of history but wasn't gloomy in appearance like some of the other older homes in the area. It was like a ray of sun shone on Tara's home in an otherwise misty, darkened day. She liked it immediately.

"Are you okay, Willow? Is something wrong?"

"Oh no, Tara, not at all," she softly spoke. Regaining her senses, she felt self-conscious. "I'm sorry...I was just admiring your home."

Tara smiled, relieved that it had Willow's stamp of approval. Of all people, she wanted this much.

Once inside, Tara proceeded to the kitchen to get the wine. Willow followed, but her eyes were focused on the ornamentations on the walls...oh, Tara had wall sconces! She loved how warm they made the home feel. The walls were painted a soft burgundy. This was not typically a color she would have chosen but it complimented Tara's style very well. She noticed the den had white outdoor lights strung up along the ceiling of all four walls and there were some fig trees Tara had in large planters. The lights were on and left the room with a twinkling, cheery glow. The furniture was soft, plush and cozy, neutral in color and on the hardwood floor, was a very beautiful patterned rug. Two tall silver candlesticks were on the coffee table, to which itself was glass with rod iron elegance. An amethyst crystal ball was sitting in a brass holder on the end table. A huge splay of incense sticks were upright, in a golden chalice, opposite the crystal ball. Willow felt at home.

"I love your home, Tara. It's very comfortable."

"Thank you. I..I..I wanted it to be that way, but I also wanted it to speak a bit about the person I am, too..." before she added, "without scaring anyone away!"

She laughed at herself, amused with the idea or perhaps speaking from personal experience, Willow wasn't sure, but found her laugh musical and pleasant. She could listen to Tara forever. Literally.

Tara went to fetch two wine glasses from the cupboard in the kitchen. Her back to Willow, who was now sitting at a bar stool in the center island, could feel those intense, green eyes penetrating her, which again made the fine hairs on her arms stand up on end. She didn't mind being studied when it came to her new friend. She just hoped Willow was enjoying what she was seeing. The glasses now in front of her, she reached for the wine opener. Many thoughts went through her mind as she stood there twisting the metal into the flesh of the cork. Willow. Willow. Willow. She said her name with each squeak of the wine opener. The name tumbled off her tongue like raspberries and cream. She could make out Willow's breathing. It excited her because, instinctually, animalistic or not, she knew Willow was feeling the same as she did.

The cork slid easily from the bottle, which was a first for Tara. Usually, it broke in two or fell into the wine bottle...or the bottle would spill. Thankfully, she made it look smooth and sexy.

"Oh, I hope you like white...it was the only bottle I had chilled and thought it might be decent choice after the coffee we had."

"I offer no complaints to the lady of the house!" Willow replied, charmed by the blonde's thoughtfulness.

Tara placed the wine glass in front of Willow, lingering just a moment too long for her hand to brush up against Willow's, who had reached for it at the same time. The familiar spark. They looked at each other just inches away again. Willow felt her heart pound in her stomach. Tara felt the blood rush through her head, nearly making her knees buckle.

"I..I..I'll go get those papers now..."

"Wait...Tara...don't go....yet." Willow reached back for the blonde's hand and pulled it deep within her own. She stood up to meet blue eyes. Standing this close, she swam deeply into the liquid blue, riding out the ocean waves looking back into her own. Together, their eyes were a storm of blue and green; crashing, melding, powerful and electrical. Neither could quite go forward but neither could go back. Willow took a breath. It was now or never. She stepped into Tara's proximity, her own eyes alight with passion, her own dancing with Tara's. They each were a myriad of movements, almost frenetic, looking from one pupil to the other, unblinking, still trying to gauge the other woman's feelings. It was a gamble, she knew it. She hardly knew Tara and, yet, on some level inexplicable to her, she felt she had found her soul mate. She never believed in anything like this...until now. Leaning in even closer, eyes still open and yearning, she tentatively placed a light, feathery kiss on Tara's freshly moistened lips.

Tara could hardly focus. She stopped breathing entirely. She couldn't believe what was happening. She stood frozen, in shock, while the redhead leaned in to taste her upper lip. She was sure Willow could hear her heart explode. Her mind raced, firing off images like snapshots. She wanted. She needed. She was going to act upon it. For the first time in a long while, she was going to go along for the ride and not question it.

Willow pulled back, feeling Tara unresponsive.

"Oh, Tara...God, I'm sorry. I...I..don't know why I just did that..." Willow put the glass of wine down, embarrassed of her actions when Tara did not react. She thought she sensed a mutual understanding...perhaps she was wrong.

A hand lifted Willow's chin, and large, green eyes were met with focused, soft blue ones. Tara took her other hand and ran it through Willow's silky red hair, all the way through, and let her hand come to rest underneath the delicate slope of Willow's jaw. Willow closed her eyes and a soft moan escaped from deep within her throat. Tara then rested her hand on Willow's face, and walked into Willow's world completely. She leaned her head and pressed her lips softly, slowly against Willow's...savoring the hint of wine left from the redhead's lips. She was eagerly met with an open mouth and a small gasp as a reward for her boldness. Tara placed the tip of her tongue along the ridge of Willow's teeth, seeking out its own playmate. Willow quickly met the tip of Tara's tongue with her own. As soon as contact was made, spasms shook through them both. A dancing of physical pleasure and emotional connection anchored them to each other. There was definitely no going back.


	3. Unwanted Invites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When things take a quick and steamy turn, Tara gets a phone call.

The Inevitable

Their tongues met in a frenzy. Their hands began to roam, first laying to rest underneath a jaw, a shoulder, then one gently splayed across a shoulder blade while another one ran back down to a hip bone. Tara snaked her arm around Willow's belt loops, sneaking a few fingertips down the back of her jeans. She wanted Willow out of those jeans.

Willow was rendered senseless. She had never experienced this powerful emotional pull. Tara, who seemed more shy and reserved, was displaying a dominant portrayal of herself. It was intense. It was hypnotic. The shy, stuttering woman in her shop had changed instantly the moment they kissed. She also instinctually knew she was the reason why. The tigress within Tara had been dormant much too long, waiting...no, primed for the right one to open her up. Willow unleashed it. She was responsible for it and Willow lapped it up like a hungry little kitten.

Tara turned Willow around with her, like a dance well-rehearsed, and pinned her against the island with her own body. Willow's glass of wine spilled. Neither cared. Tara sought Willow's tongue. The kisses were heated and passionate with lingering, delicate, and purposeful gliding strokes against each other. It was a wonderfully sexually charged contrast of sensuality and basic need. They gave in to the desires of each.

Willow ran her hands under the front of Tara's blouse. ‘God, this is happening...' She gently pulled the buttons undone, one by one, while Tara continued her endless torment of tongue-whipped kisses. She let her fingertips glide upwards from Tara's navel to her breasts, stopping just shy of them, and changed course towards her bra straps instead, rounding out over her smooth shoulders. She pulled one strap down. Willow then, very slowly and deliberately, ran her palms over the tops of Tara's covered nipples. She felt them rise and engorge with just her touch. Tara gasped. She let out a small cry from deep inside her chest as Willow did this. It elicited a mutual response.

Willow arched her neck, allowing Tara access to the vulnerable, fleshy parts of her throat and collarbone. The invite was clear and it was taken with pleasure. Tara suckled and tortured every exposed part of Willow's milky flesh she could find. She tasted sweet and earthy with a hint of musk. She couldn't wait to find out how Willow tasted in other secret places....

The blonde continued her assault of kisses and tenderly applied ministrations. She savored every delicious nibble on Willow's neck, her face, her mouth, and her glorious, sweet tongue. She loved the feel of Willow's hair between her fingers and the feel of her breast beneath her hand. But she decided to momentarily stop cold, letting her eyes focus on the writhing and wriggling subject in her arms.

”Don't...stop...now..." Willow, breathless and thoroughly under the woman's charms and beguiles, missed the warmth of lips on skin. The resonance Willow made, the low guttural moans, was comparable to silken sex mousse in a fine French crystalline dish...it's just something once you start, you must finish at once. You try to taste it, to savor it with refined and dignified patience, but it's too decadent to wait for...and Willow was just too damn decadent to wait for.

Tara eyed the sofa. She had bigger plans in mind. She knew they were moving fast. She long gave up playing hard to get the moment she laid eyes on the petite woman in the jewelry store, with her cute little blouse, black tight jeans, adorable little tennis shoes, holding papers in her hand and standing there with a warm grin on her face. She wanted to be accessible for the redheaded beauty and, in truth, she loved the attention she was giving and receiving. It had been such a long time for Tara; a barren time of frustrations, of loneliness and solitude. She filled the gaps with her studies, her clientele's livelihoods, and often volunteering for causes near to her heart, but the emptiness lingered within, feeling she were droning on to others how to live a better life, yet couldn't quite manage one herself. Now, she could speak the words and they'd mean something.

Willow opened her eyes to take in Tara. Under different circumstances, she might be embarrassed to look into the eye of another while in the frenzy of passion. Even in her past relationship, she found it difficult to look at her boyfriend while they made love. She felt awkward and even a bit dirty. Tara was different. Looking at Tara was a different, softer kind of making love and she never felt more comfortable with it in her entire life.

Willow reached behind Tara's head and pulled her back in. The kissing grew deep, softer, but their passion licked hot, white strokes through their limbs and loins. Tara turned Willow back around, away from the center island, and slowly began to court her towards the plush and inviting sofa. Their steps were matched in unison...each were a perfect fit. They began a descent together but, in an agile and unexpected maneuver, Willow gained the advantage by turning around and pushing Tara down first. She placed her weight completely on top of the blonde, relishing in the groan escaping Tara's lips, knowing the sensation of pleasant pressure would take her breath away. Willow's wet tongue lapped at the lobe of Tara's ear, instinctually marking her hot spot. Increasing libidos and mounting desires between the two women was apparent in the dampening skin and hurried breathing. In understanding, and in total need, Tara spread her legs apart, willingly opening herself for Willow. Her hips began a rhythmic motion, in slow taunting circles, inviting Willow to join the dance. The redhead hesitated, choosing instead to caress Tara's breast with the side of her cheek, daring those protruding nipples to beg for more. The bra strap, which had now fallen down her shoulder, had revealed a full and beautiful breast. Willow eyed it like a bird of prey. She wanted to swoop down and ravish the creamy mound in one bite. Instead, she gingerly took the tip of the nipple between her teeth and let the pleasure that was Tara envelop the entirety of her mouth.

"Hi! I'm not home right now, but please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can."

Beep.

"Uh...hello? Tara? Um. I know it's late but I just needed to talk to you. Are you there? Will you please pick up if you are? I'm feeling...I'm lonely and...and I really need to hear your voice."

Both women stopped, Tara bolting upright in position. "When did the phone ring? Did you hear it ring?"

"Um, no..." Willow eyed Tara in concern. The voice speaking on the machine was another woman. The voice was longing and desperate. She felt the pangs and twinges of jealousy beat throughout her bloodstream with each forceful pump her heart took.

Tara stood up quickly, smoothing out her clothing, and tucking her hair behind her ears. Why was she regaining her composure? What was she so nervous of? She acted as if she were a deer caught in the proverbial headlights. Unless....

"Am I interrupting something, Tara?"

Tara didn't hear her. She was lost in thought.

Willow felt the sting of a tear threaten to spill from her eyes and for what and why, she really wasn't sure. It's not like they were a couple...but inside, she wanted more, and this, she realized, was the source of her sudden pain. She felt ridiculous. How could she expect Tara would want more? They both casually fell into a good time, into tender arms, and it was what it was. Willow stood up from the couch, watching Tara walk away toward the phone. And come first thing in the morning, she had to go back to the store and fix Tara's pendant. The very pendant she was hoping might link them together.


	4. Hold You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the heat of new found passion, Tara must help someone, and leaves Willow feeling vulnerable.

Willow could hear Tara's voice, murmuring into the receiver as she spoke to the woman. She felt completely awkward and, strange enough to say, given their rushed set of circumstances, even a bit used. Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions. Something like this probably would not have bothered her before. Why was she over personalizing this? Because it became personal the moment they kissed. She had deepening feelings for Tara, who was still in the other room, and barely audible while on the phone. She didn't want Willow to hear this conversation. Her body was still reeling from their sensual kisses and caresses but her heart had fallen.

She went back to the kitchen to retrieve what remained Tara's glass of wine, since her's had fallen to the floor. She gulped it in one swallow and picked up the broken glass from the floor. Her next plan was to get the hell out of here quickly because she couldn't take what she knew was coming next. 'Oh crap.' she thought. 'I didn't drive here.' Now Willow felt stuck and sorely out of place, and at the mercy of the woman in the other room. She heard the footfalls of Tara in the den, then coming back into the kitchen.

She reached for Willow’s hand, but Willow retreated back instead.

"Willow. I'm really sorry about that. It's..um...it was just somebody I used to know...and...and she needed to talk about something...I'm s...s...sorry I behaved that way and rushed off."

"It's okay, Tara. You don't owe me an explanation." She lied. She felt Tara owed her the truth of who the woman was, especially given her strange reaction after what they had been doing on the sofa a half hour earlier. The incredible physical and emotional intimacy was greater than anything she'd ever experienced up to now. Was it too much to ask for? Tara had behaved nervously and uncomfortable for Willow not to assume the worst. Mature Willow knew assumptions are damaging. She was in no place to give Tara a hard time. She was drained and ready to go home. She was being overly reactive to a quickie feel-good, even though Tara should have said something to the effect that she had someone else in her life. The desperation of the voice she heard on the phone was just no ordinary friend. She felt it.

Tara was reaching into her purse for something. The keys appeared. Willow's internal dialogue went into self-pity babble-mode. ‘She should have said something to me. Maybe the woman is a friend, or her sister? I'm sure lots of lonely and sad women call Tara at 11:30 at night. I would.' Yeah, that was no friend and definitely not a sister. Unless you mean of the lesbian variety.

"No. I do, Willow." Tara's low tone broke the redhead away from her spiraling thoughts. " I do owe you one. But I can't talk about it right now. I'm sorry to have to do this, but I have to go. I'll take you b...b..back to your c..c..car, okay?"

Willow put a forced smile on her face. "Sure... no problem." She was hurt but she tried to put it down, keep it on the back burner.

Tara's mind screamed inside and out. She knew she was hurting Willow but she couldn't explain things to her yet. It was a counselor's oath she took and she couldn't breach her word. There would be no way to fix this tonight. She had to go immediately to where she was needed. Yet her mind stumbled on how she could fix this...

As they got into the car, Tara reached for Willow's hand. Willow pulled away and nonchalantly ran her hand through her own hair. Tara felt Willow flinch. "Willow, I'm sorry. It's really not what it seems."

"It's okay, Tara. Honestly. Let's go, okay?"

Tara started up the car and backed down the driveway. Both women felt the end of something wonderful had taken hold. As Tara drove, she knew she needed to explain things to the woman next to her. She sometimes found it awkward and uncomfortable to express herself as it usually gave way to misunderstood feelings. Truth was, the woman on the phone was an ex-client of hers. And an ex-lover. They had dated briefly in the following two years since the client terminated her therapy sessions. Tara had quickly put an end to the relationship, however. It wasn't appropriate and she did it to have someone for company, to keep the fear of rejection away and have the familiarity of a friend who, in turn, needed her. A completely wrong set of circumstances to be in a relationship with someone. Tara chastised herself for such motives. She wasn't going to be shallow with Willow and she would try to put things right.

"Willow, the woman you heard is an ex-client of mine. And an ex-girlfriend. I was uncomfortable she called but she wouldn't unless there was an emergency...but I didn't want you to assume the worst of me. She caught me off guard. I was shocked she called, frankly. I got nervous...and I'm not very happy about it. This took my time away from you..."

Willow sat in silence a moment before responding. She allowed the words sink in.

"Tara, really. I understand. I...I...don't know what got into me, back there at your place. I mean...we hardly know each other, right? And...and...it doesn't surprise me, ya know, that you're needed because you're a very attractive person to want to know."

They reached Willow's car.

She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, still flustered. "So, I will call you when your pendant is ready to be picked up. It won't take me long to repair it." She looked away, out the window. "I had a really nice time with you tonight. Thank you for letting me come over...even though I never did see those papers." She turned to face Tara again, but this time with a slightly more genuine smile on her face.

With that, she opened the door to get out. Tara grabbed her hand and leaned over to look up at Willow's standing form. "I will call you. I don't want this to end." She gazed intently into Willow's eyes and smiled openly for her. "I still want you to see those papers, too."

Willow hoped Tara would be true to her word. She stood and watched as she drove away, into the cool damp of the night, and opened the door to her car to get in.

She put the key in the ignition and turned on the radio to her favorite station. At that same moment, an old, familiar song resonated through the tiny speakers of her Audi.

"Listen to the wind blow...

Through the great divide.

Voices trapped in yearning.

Voices trapped in time.

The night is my companion.

And solitude my guide.

Would I spend forever here.

And not be satisfied....

I would be the one.

To hold you down...

Kiss you so hard.

I'll take your breath away."

Willow sat, letting the words flow through her. What an appropriate song for an appropriate moment. She, too, drove off towards home, in the dark dampness of the remains of the night.

Tara sat in her car, collecting herself and calming her body before getting out to see Chris, her ex and ex-client. She never heard her sound this bad...she knew this was going to be tricky. Her brief time with Willow was more pure and more loving than anything she'd ever known. Their togetherness was already timeless and precious. Willow's words still reverberated in her mind.

'Because you're a very attractive person to want to know.'

She had wondered if the pendant, laying somewhere on Willow's bench, would be hot to the touch. It signaled such emotional extremes whenever Tara had them. She missed the familiar feel of it around her neck...and she could use its source of power right now.

Her rotation, her need to be on 24 hour call was rarely taken advantage of, but when duty did call, she had to be available. She just wish it hadn't been her ex-client, of all people.


	5. Disproportional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara has a face-to-face with a few unexpected things and Willow faces a new challenge.

The house was as it always was...a reminder of pained and troubled times. She walked up the cobbled pathway towards the front door. The car parked in the driveway had a broken headlight and the side panel was crushed. 'That's not good...'

The large, wooden door had glass frosted windows and she saw the hummingbird stained glass portrait she made was still in position. There was a light somewhere in the back part of the house and the warm glow filtered out the translucent glass. The manicured shrubbery brought back memories of her hard work to help rebuild this home.

She put her finger up to doorbell but the door had already opened before she could. Chris was standing there, a drink in her hand, her hair and clothing slightly disheveled. A deepening bruise was developing above her cheek. In spite of it all, she was still a very attractive woman she had to admit, although reluctantly. Chris spoke first.

"I'm so glad you came. Thank you for coming, Tara. Come in, please." She motioned for her to step inside.

Tara smiled weakly and accepted the invite. She was nervous about this meeting, even if it had to do with Chris' current partner instead of her.

"Chris, what happened? Did you get anything settled between then and now? Did you hear from Stacey?"

The older woman turned to face the blonde, choosing to momentarily ignore her question. 'She's still so beautiful...' she thought. 'I made a poor decision to let her go.' "Listen, can I get you a drink or something?" Tara noticed Chris had unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse.

"No, thank you, Chris." Tara put her purse and keys down on the table in the hallway, growing more uneasy with the set of circumstances developing. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? I'm here as your friend and as a former counselor, and my obligations to help anyone in trouble sometimes land me in trouble and could question whether I keep my license. Do you need me to listen, to call 911? Or did you have something else planned?" She didn't hesitate to point towards her revealing cleavage line.

Chris mistook the gesture to mean her face. "Well, Stacey and I obviously had a fight but before you assume anything, she didn't do this to my face. I know it looks probable and suspicious."

Tara had eyed her with concern. People usually lied about these matters but the energy she was sensing from Chris felt unguarded. She may her issues, but her energy wasn't too erratic for someone with trauma on their face. She was too calm. Tara assumed it to be shock.

"I was in a car accident earlier today." Pointing to the swollen area on her cheek, she added, "A result of my getting acquainted with the steering wheel..." She saved face with a smile and took another sip of her drink. "I was swerving an animal in the road and I hit the curb, went up and over, and then the tree hit me."

"That would explain the car's condition in the driveway", concluded Tara.

"Yeah. Nothing like damaging your brand new car. I haven't even made my first payment on it yet." She took the final sip of her drink.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?”asked Chris, going in for second pour.

”Water, thanks. But you sit here and I'll go get it."

"I haven't seen you in a long time. You look good...you look really well." She reached out to touch Tara's arm. Both women temporarily froze but for two entirely different reasons. "I'm sorry I took you away from whatever you were doing. You sounded preoccupied. But when you said I could call given an emergency, I just needed to talk to you about Stacey and me."

Tara feigned a return smile. She really didn't want to be here.

"It's okay, Chris. I..I..I'm glad you felt safe to reach out." She wasn't truthful. She was disappointed that she and Willow had to leave something wonderful interrupted. It just wasn't like her to rush into a physical relationship with anybody. The sudden appeal had left her nervous but it had left her desperately wanting. She was still incredibly wet as she stood there talking to Chris. As hard as she tried to concentrate on what the brunette was saying, (the intense fight Stacey and Chris had earlier in the day, the distraction of the fight causing Chris to run up a curb and hit a tree, drinking too much alone), Tara’s mind continued to wander back to Willow. She imagined they'd never have such conflict of this nature. That they would always find a way to resolve a situation before it became bitter and angry. She felt this to be as obvious as water is wet. Wet. There's that word again. 'I'm falling in love with her.' Everything she sensed about Willow was just...well, it was just right. She hand’t heard much of Chris’ lamentations. What an unprofessional therapist thing to do, but she wanted out.

Chris finally had begun to collect herself from the present situation. Never mind the two cocktails she had consumed in the last half hour of Tara's arrival. She had hoped it was diffused enough she could leave and maybe give Willow a call, if it wasn't too late...

"Chris, I think you both need to continue your therapy. I have someone in mind for you to talk to."

"Can't I talk to you?"

"Not anymore, no. I could lose my license. I can't provide counseling to a former partner. My instincts are to help and I do want to help, but I need to refer you to another person more suited for you."

"Couldn't you offer me suited advice as a friend?" Chris wasn't ready for her to leave. She had looked so beautiful sitting in her old chair, with the soft hue of the lights glowing around her golden hair. The light framed her face and made those blue eyes radiate compassion, warmth, understanding...all the things she sorely missed. All those things she had taken for granted when Tara used to be there with her.

"You don't need me for this. You need to go to couple's counseling. I don't want to see you hurt over this..."

Chris leaned over to put her drink down. She straightened herself up, grazing Tara's waist with her free hand, and placed her other hand in Tara's. She intertwined her fingers through the blonde's. There were no sparks like she felt with Willow. This was a dead relationship.

"I think you must know how much I've missed you."

Before Tara could react, her former lover was kissing her, those familiar lips burning with desire. She took Tara's hand and ran it along her breast. She could smell the dewy heat of Tara's earlier passion and took it as mutual sign. Chris knew the longing and the want all too well. She was making bold movements and Tara was caught off guard.

But this was misplaced. It was not Chris she wanted.

\---------------------------------------------------

Willow couldn't sleep. She drove to her shop and looked around. Her familiar home away from home was this shop. She loved it here and it was a great source of comfort when home wasn’t. She lit some candles and diffused the shop with sage hoping it might diffuse her as well. She went over to her bench and there, sitting on the countertop, was Tara's beloved broken necklace.

She picked it and held it longingly, thinking of Tara. The pendant began to radiate and grow warm. Then pure fire. Willow dropped it quickly. It burned her fingers leaving a heated raised bed of burning skin. She quickly dunked her hand in cold running water to stave off the intensity of the pain. "What the hell?" She went over to look at her own cabbed version of the same gems, afraid of what they may feel like. With her other hand, she pressed quickly the tip of one finger to the cabochon. It was cool. Just like her heart now. Was something wrong with Tara, she wondered?

———————————————————————————————————

"Chris...no!” Her mojo quickly kicked in.

Like a snapshot, she saw Willow in her mind's eye. She saw Willow in her shop holding her necklace. She had tasted the sweetness of Willow's kiss. Chris’ commanding presence was unwelcome and she had enough. It wasn’t what she wanted. Satisfying her body was not the sole objective unlike Chris' needs. She wanted sensuality, love, passion, and the longing electrical spark that she'd only felt with Willow. The visual replayed again.

She pushed off from Chris, forcefully, leaving her ex breathless and staring back with still smoldering eyes, to which now was overcome with confusion and questioning.

Tara looked at Chris squarely in the eyes. She bit her lower lip in search of a way to say this the right way without Chris relapsing.

"We are long over. You're with Stacey now. You chose her over me and times have changed now." She knew it would hurt the vulnerable woman whose tears continued to fall down her bruised cheeks. She had to be forceful. "You have her, and this is not right. You’re using me to get back at Stacey and I won’t have it. Try and fix it, or don’t, but just because you're hurting, doesn't make this okay. I’m calling Stacey and she’s taking you to the ER."

"Tara. Wait. I know this is my fault. I drink too much. I was distracted, lost in myself, and I had hoped maybe Stacey and I could work on a reconciliation, but I don’t love her anymore. My motives was to talk to you about Stacey and how to end our relationship without it becoming volatile. Seeing you again brought back all my old feelings. It's hard not to love you..." Chris gave her a weak smile. She meant what she said. She did love Tara. She watched as the blonde grabbed her keys and pocket book, digging for a business card of a contact she knew.

"Promise me, to contact this number." Tara handed her the card. If one thing she could believe in now, she could, with resolve, say miracles of love do happen. What she had for Willow was proof enough. "If it's not meant to be with Stacey, then end it now. Someone is there for you, Chris. As painful as that may be to hear, you must do right by you both. Also, if Stacey is out of the question, then I'm calling a cab to take you to the ER to check for a concussion. Your bruise is looking worse."

”No, I don’t need you to do that, Tara.” Then haphazardly, waving her hand around her face, “This is not what hurts anymore.” Tara understood Chris' broken heart, but she dialed the number to a local taxi company. Chris continued. "Before you go, I want you to have something." Chris walked to the door and removed the stained glass portrait Tara had made over two years ago. "I know you loved making this...and I want you to have it. It’s too painful for me to look at so just consider it my one semi-selfless act. Now go, before I start to cry again."

Tara glanced at the hummingbird and turned toward Chris. “The cab is on the way just a few blocks out. I’ll make arrangements to have someone bring you back home - no arguments. That’s your one last selfless act, okay?” Chris stood at the archway, her hand pressed up against the heavy door where the decorative glass used to be. She had to be content to watch the woman she still loves get in her car and drive away as the cab pulled up.

\-------------------------------------------

Willow had decided to try to tackle repairing Tara's pendant now that the stone was cool to the touch. She was tired, but her body was sparked and alive between the intensity of the gemstone incident and the brief encounter on Tara’s couch. She couldn't go to her dark home. Her body was pulsing with the ebb and flows of Tara's kisses, Tara touches, Tara everything. She needed to preoccupy herself with something constructive. She couldn't shake the wretch of stabbing paranoia in her gut. What was her blonde friend doing at this moment? Willow wasn't exactly pleased she'd been dismissed in favor of an ex-client, ex-girlfriend, or who ever the heck she was. She felt immature and possessive for thinking this way. 'She said it was an emergency.’ Still, something was rolling around the back of her mind. She wasn't comfortable with it. She'd settle for being professional jeweler Willow Rosenberg, fine collector of jewelry and master bench-woman. There was Tara's pendant resting on her bench. If she couldn't have Tara, the pendant was the next best thing. Not before she stepped out for some cool air.

After a few minutes of breathing cool air into her lungs and heated body, she turned to head back in, but the door had shut on her, setting the automatic alarm back on. She reached up for the alarm pad. She forgot the damm code again. 'Crap, why in Sam Heck can't I remember this.'

*1*8*8*4*. The light continued to flash its warning red.

'What does Sam Heck even mean?'

*1*8*1*4. The blinking light still did not change.

'Who are these people who come up with these expressions?'

She was feeling overwhelmed and frustrated with her own passcode. Three days ago this wasn't a problem, but her world had changed and she was tumbling headlong into a new dimension.

'C'mon, Willow! Before the Police Squad show up!’ She had 10 seconds to get it right.

For the second time in one day, the absent numbers finally came to her.

*1*4*8*4*

The light went from red to green and she stepped in to close the door behind her. She put her keys on the counter and turned on the main light to the shop, then walked to the glass case where she kept the rocks she found in Wales. She had the three unique cabochons cut from the rough she brought home with her. They were cool to the touch. Nothing out of the ordinary. She put two of them down keeping the one with the golden flecks in her palm. Walking to the bench, she reached for the spot where she had placed Tara's heirloom pendant after she dropped in the bench earlier. The stone she held in her other hand suddenly flamed white heat into the palm of her hand. She yelped at the searing redness it left behind. It would not dislocate from her hand no matter what she did to try and flail and fling it away.

"Fuck!"

then,

"Oh, God!"

A cry of both pain and fright.

Tara's pendant wasn't there.

It had somehow fallen to the floor where it had broken in two pieces.

"Oh, god, no!”


	6. Disobedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara must pull through while a frantic Willow must do the same

Tara drove along a dimly lit road deciding to take an alternate route home. She put the stain glass in the front seat, hoping to offer it some protection against the pot holes inundating most of the streets. 'I am in love with Willow.'

She stayed lost in her thoughts, tenderly recalling the remnants of an emotional day. She caught her reflection in the rear view. Her face shone of her inner light as she fondly replayed the memories of the intimacy she shared with Willow. Willow. She was as beautiful as was her name. Mindlessly reveling in her thoughts adrift, Tara was startled from the bone-jarring jolt of her wheels landing in rough roadway. A huge pot hole sprung out of nowhere. The stained glass took a sharp hit and fell onto the floor. She reached over to quickly pick it up but not before seeing the oncoming glare of headlights illuminating into her front windshield. That was the last thing she would remember.

\-------------------------

Willow felt pain. Increasingly and acutely sharp pain piercing within her chest. Her hand throbbed from the burn. Something was wrong. Something horrible had just happened.

Visions flooded her mind. Tara!

She saw headlights, saw the looming vehicle slam into the driver's side front bumper. She fell to her knees, coughing and unable to breathe. The shattering pain was numbing her senses. Windshield glass shattered. A hummingbird.

Tara!

A stain glass exploded in tiny sharp pieces, scattered about the interior of the car.

Tara!

Blood on the steering wheel. Blood on glass shards.

A lurching scene of frenzied images...Willow laid on the floor of her studio, unable to move, the fragmented movie clips frenetically rotating in her mind. Her one hand still clutching her own cabochon that was like the sister to the now broken one from Tara's pendant.

\----------------------------------

Tara had awoken to a man's low-pitched voice and the whine of a siren in her head. The flashing of red and white streaked the interior of the vehicle. Fuzzy recollections of images spun through her mind. From the looks of things, she'd somehow managed to land herself in an ambulance, but how she got there was a disjointed blur. Her head ached and her chest was tight with pressure. She tried to speak but something was covering her mouth.

"Okay, she's awake!"

—————————————————————————

"Can you hear me, Miss?" A man, looming over her, was stroking her hair away from her face. Tara watched as he bumped his head against the back of the cab.

"Hey, guys! Go easy!"

The vehicle jerked from left to right. The driver, dodging other cars on the main streets towards the hospital, was clearly irritated with the lack of consideration in their driving habits.

"Don't these people understand that this is an ambulance? Jesus, get out of the way!"

His partner flipped every audible switch in the control panel to sway them over. Tara felt she was aboard a tiny row boat being tossed and churned about and growing more nauseous with each yank of the wheel. She tried to move her arms but they were pinned down next to her and she could feel the straps binding her chest down to the cot she lay on.

'What happened to me?' she asked with ragged breath. She looked at the man who sat next to her.

No answer.

'Will you please tell me what happened?'

Her words would not form sentences. The man heard her garbled moans and tried to reassure her.

"I'm glad you're awake, Miss. You've been in an accident. You're going to be all right so just be still for me, okay?"

He petted her forehead as if she were a stray puppy.

Willow still lay on the floor of her shop. Her hands clenched and released with each breath she took, but the stone would not fall away. She slowly regained some sense of normality of her breathing, but the experience had her stomach in knots and the urge to vomit was but a moment away. The sweat was trickling down her brow. She was eye level with the broken pendant on the floor and the one in her hand was next to it.

Tara. Something had happened to Tara. A few minutes had passed. She put together the pieces of what she saw. A realization. She had to go. She reached for the broken pieces of Tara's stone, along with the hers next to it, and stood up evenly, trying to move towards the door. Both stones still burned in her hands, but she didn't care. She had to leave immediately.

She manage to move her body with more ease and exited her store, uncaring she left it open and unprotected, grabbing the keys from the counter along the way. She pushed the keyless remote a dozen times for her car, but kept unlocking and relocking the door.

"Shit!"

With a desperate clutch of the doorhandle, she barely shut it before starting the engine and making off, like a bat out of hell, towards downtown, towards the hospital she instinctively knew Tara was at.

\--------------------------------------

Inside, the room was white and sterile. The wall to the left of her had light pink ceramic tiles. It made her nauseous to look at. Tara tried to keep her eyes open but the whirling of faces and overhead lights wasn't resting well with her stomach. She could hear the monitor of someone's heart beat next to her. The heart beat was erratic and irritating to listen to. It dawned on her that this was the sound of her own heart as it fluctuated with each emotion she felt.

The room was noisy, full of the electronic life of a typical hospital ward. She listened to the murmured voices of the doctors in the room adjacent to her. They were talking about her. She heard words like "bad" and "fortunate" and "could have been worse". She still couldn't recall much of what happened exactly...but her mind would always settle on Willow. She called out a silent plea, hoping she might be heard through these thick barriers. Their connection was strong already...perhaps Willow would sense something terrible had happened..

"I wish you would come..."

Tara began to cry. Then she remembered. She hit a parked car. It was her fault. She didn't concentrate. She was momentarily distracted by a stain glass given by someone she never wanted to see again, and now she was the second person to be in a car accident. Chris wasn't good energy.

The nurse rushed in, concerned with the rate of beats per minute on Tara's monitor.

\-----------------------------------------

Willow was driving like a madwoman, obsessed with her course of action to locate the hospital. She still held the the stones in her hand. They were pressed against her palm and the steering wheel as she drove. The heat subsided as she drove closer to the hospital. They were tingling and prickling her skin. She didn't have time to think about it. She had only one purpose, in this moment of time, and all her energies were focused on that objective. Nearly running over a curb and barely missing a newspaper vendor, she decided she had better settle down. Getting into an accident of her own wouldn't help matters any.

\--------------------------------

"Honey, it's all right. Nothing is gonna happen to you here while you're on my watch. Now sweetie, do you have family we can contact?" The nurse spoke in a rich, southern accent and her musical voice warmed and soothed Tara's anxious heart.

Tara shook her head. The only one she'd want there, by her side, would be Willow. The nurse smiled and patted Tara's arm. She did genuinely seem to care. The hurt blonde accepted the woman's kindness and returned a thank you with a weak smile. Being hurt wasn't the reason for the tears but she wasn't exactly in the position to state as such.

Tara remembered she left her pendant in the care of Willow. Her protection, her charm blessed by the ancestors of her family, was missing around her neck. She had wondered if this was the result of not wearing it. She had to let it go. The pendant would serve no purpose being broken and on the dresser drawer, either. Either way, she couldn't wear it.

A slender, older man in a white coat had come over beside her. His eyes were grey and his face drawn and he looked worse than her for the wear. She assumed he was the doctor in charge.

"C..c..can you tell me why I'm here?" The words croaked from her mouth.

"Shhhh. Someone will explain things shortly."

The nurse came up beside him, holding some charts in her hand.

"This looks bad." He lifted up the light covering to her chest. "Patty, I need you to prepare the OR...and get Dr. Mulhoney down here immediately." The nurse nodded and hurried off.

He gave her an injection sedative to ward off the pain and she fell into a light but dizzying sleep.

\----------------------------------------------

Willow knew she had to go to St. Vincent's hospital, directly situated in the heart of downtown. The congested streets of downtown night life made it a haven for pedestrians and drivers alike. Willow navigated the roads as safely as she could. She bargained one red light when there wasn't a threat of cars approaching. People stood laughing and coagulated in large groups, obviously with too much of a good drink in their systems. Willow was in no laughing mood. She honked her horn furiously at a man who idled along much too slowly, show boating to the young women, in his Porsche.

"Move! Move! Dammit, move!! For such a hot rod could you MOVE ANY SLOWER!"

She sped around him, giving him a none too pleasant look as she did. A little Audi speeding around a Porsche. She probably would have thought it was comical in other circumstances.

Ahead, she saw the glow of the hospital ER sign. She knew Tara was inside. A small voice, from somewhere deep inside had echoed, "I wish you would come..." Their connection was strong and Willow, as frightened and unnerved as she was, maintained enough composure to feel amazed with the strength of their connection.

"I'm coming, Tara. I'm right here!" Willow answered aloud as she pulled into the nearest parking place she could find. Which was a chief medical doctor's reserved spot. She scrambled out her car and ran into the main entrance of the building, nearly stumbling and not-so-accidentally pushing a man lazily standing in the middle of the hall out of her way.

\------------------------------------------

Tara was wrought with dreams. Her body twitched and jerked as the nightmarish images took hold of her mind. She remembered seeing Chris. She remembered walking away. She remembered a stain glass she made some years ago. She remembered her pendant. She remembered Willow.

Oh, Willow. The bouncy, perky redhead whom she kissed just hours earlier. The beautiful woman with inquisitive eyes. From somewhere deep in her psyche, she heard a voice whispering, "I'm coming Tara. I'm right here!" She calmed...Willow had heard her after all.

Tara stirred. She opened her eyes and immediately panicked. The oncoming glare of headlights. Bright, intense light focused before her eyes. It was nearly on top of her now.

"Close your eyes, dear. We need to do some minor stitching. You're gonna go back to sleep for a little while. All will be better when you wake up...."

Tara heard the words of the pleasant honey-voiced Southern nurse. The words soothed and comforted but nothing would be of true comfort until she saw Willow again. Her eyes, which were focused on the bright light overhead, gradually dimmed and fluttered a few times before they closed to the effects of the anesthesia.

—————————————————————————————

Willow pushed through the rotating glass doors and bee-lined towards the front desk.

'Ick. Hospital smell.' She would never get used to that.

She fumbled again with the stones before stuffing them down her front pocket. They had calmed to a mild vibration and cool to the touch. A fleeting wave of concern passed through regarding the stone's broken condition. 'Tara is going to be upset at me when she sees this.' She wanted to explain that this happened on its own accord, that it wasn't something she did, but she had to find Tara first and worry about the pendant later.

A petite woman was occupying the front chair, tapping diligently on the computer keyboard before her. Willow unpretentiously slapped both hands on the counter, announcing her presence, although it was quite unnecessary. Most of those in her path had quickly dodged out of her way. She was a walking train wreck.

"Okay, I'm here! Where is she, please!"

The woman looked up and removed her glasses. "Excuse me?"

"I'm here as in 'here I am'! She needs me, in a needy kind of way, and I'm kinda needing her in a needing to find her kind of way...so, you know, I need to know where she is!"

Willow, still gasping for breaths, searched the woman at the receptions desk thoroughly for an answer, expecting her to read her mind. Strands of red hair clung to the sides of her face where the dewy beads of perspiration had formed. The woman, realizing the red head was in a panic, spoke patiently.

"Who is the 'she' that you're talking about?"

Willow looked at her blankly unable to comprehend the words. Her breath was ragged, near hyperventilation. The stones were, again, tingling in her pocket.

"Listen, take a deep breath and calm down. Would you care for some water."

This snapped Willow from her absent-minded condition.

"Water!?" Willow lowered her voice and furrowed her brow, almost incredulous she had the nerve to make such a suggestion. "Like she's in here, all alone probably, and she's hurt and I can't find her and you're asking me if I want some water? Well, of course I don't want some water..."

She paused. "But I wouldn't exactly say no to a soda..."

The lady got up and held up a coke can from the refrigerator where the medications were stored. She raised an eyebrow obviously conditioned to this kind of reaction. "Will this do?"

The flustered red-head took it graciously. "The name is Willow Rosenberg and I'm looking for Tara..."

She stared at the receptionist expectantly.

The woman stared back, unblinking, still waiting for the last name of the person in question.

Willow repeated herself. "Tara. I'm looking for Tara."

"Yes, you said that already. Are you family?"

"Uh. Family?" Willow replied hesitantly.

The receptionist put down her pencil. "Do you have a last name?"

"Yes, I told you, it's Rosenberg..."

"No, not your last name. The last name of the person you're requesting."

Willow felt like an idiot. "Uh, well, not exactly?" She answered it more of a question than a statement. This was getting nowhere fast.

"Look, I'm not family, per se, but Tara's very important to me. She's... well, she's my...my...look, I really just need to know if she's okay. Can...can you please just tell me?" Willow implored with the woman, hoping the earnest conviction of her eyes would say it all. "Please?"

The receptionist looked Willow up and down. Sensing the odd red-head was genuinely concerned, she granted to offer more information. She flipped through some papers with names of those who had been recently admitted.

"There was a young woman in here earlier, under the name of Tara Maclay. She's in surgery at the moment though..."

"What??? Sh..sh...she's in surgery?? Is she gonna be all right?"

"Well, I'm not allowed to say for certain. But she's not at this ward. You need to go up to the 6th floor, take a right, and talk to one of the nurses at the station. I'm sure they'll tell you more if they can."

Willow grabbed her coke from atop the station and ran towards the elevators. "Thank you!" was all the woman heard...that and the sound of someone slamming into the garbage receptacle.

Willow was a basket case.


	7. Hell Hath No Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow is on a mission after Tara gets hurt

"Everything looks good. Let's get the bandages in place and call it a wrap. Make sure those stitches are holding the wound together." All in all, the doctor was pleased things were not as serious as he initially expected. A few contusions, some major bruising around the rib cage, a couple of lacerations. He had to pull 7 shards of colorful glass from her chest and belly area but none were as dangerously embedded as he thought. It was more messy than serious. "This is a lucky woman we have here..." With the final stitches in place, the anesthesiologist gently reduced the medications until Tara regained light consciousness. She was intubated, and needed to be watched until she completely woke.

Tara heard her name being called. She was in medicated sleep and didn't feel like being roused. Her dreams were of Willow. She was enjoying the dream sequence just a little too much. Mmmm. Willow kisses. Willow touches. More Willow kisses in wonderful places. Willow tongue. Delicious Willow body.

"She's coming around. I'm removing the tube now."

Tara coughed and gagged. Then went right back to a light sleep.

She was wheeled into her room for the night. The drugs in her system made her normally inhibited self much more relaxed.

"Willow? Sweetie? Why did you stop? Just kiss me, okay?" She reached up and patted the side of the Dr's face before falling back into a sedated slumber.

The anesthesiologist smiled. 'This Willow is a very lucky person...'

——————————————————————————

She frantically pushed the same button a dozen times. The elevator was taking much too long. She should just run up the stairs. She'd get there faster. A turtle could get there faster. Willow bolted off for the exit/stair sign...no sooner had the door shut behind her when the ding of the elevator doors opened. From the other hallway, a well-dressed man quickly approached and entered, pressing the button to the floor he wanted. He turned to face the doors, then waiting for the doors to close.

Willow was no sloucher but she hadn't figured running up six flights of stairs would leave her so breathless. The soda had jostled about on her jaunty journey upwards. She had it on her hand, on her arm and a new patch was forming on her left thigh. She tripped up the last two stairs and the can flew out of her hands, splashing its caramel existence all over her, the walls and the stairs.

"Have a Coke and a smile my ass...shit!"

She tried to wipe the remnants on her pants as best she could. She was a sticky and sweaty bull in the proverbial china shop. 'Wouldn't Tara love to see me now...'

She flung the door open to the 6th floor. 'Go right. She said to go right...'

A janitor was making his way to the end of the hallway.

"Sir, somebody dropped a can of soda all over the stairs back there..it's kinda messy...."

He rolled his eyes. "God, I hate this job..."

Willow hurried forth, feeling not at all guilty for having the poor man clean up her mess. She just couldn't deal with the injustices of her foibles right now. She had to see Tara. She powered her way to the receptionist desk speaking over the din of the other nurses at the station.

"Hello? Excuse me..."

The ensemble of nurses were all bunched together, like a badly huddled football team, clucking about the nuances of allergies this time of year.

'You'd think you'd have more important things to do...' Willow uttered under her breath.

They turned, as if hearing her, and looked at the young woman with an unmistakable 'you're interrupting us' expression.

"Yes, hello. Thank you. Sorry to disrupt the flow of conversation, but could somebody tell me if Tara Maclay is out of surgery now?"

A slightly husky nurse came over to the desk leaving the others to continue their conversation. She didn't look the type to irritate. In fact, she was rather intimidating.

"Who are you?"

Willow didn't care for the curt tone and found herself feeling irritated. "I'm Willow, that's who I am...and, well, since you so curiously brought it up, who might you be?"

The woman, not to be trifled with, pointed to her badge. "What does it look like. I'm the head RN in charge."

“Not surprising." Sarcasm seeped into the statement.

The head nurse cast Willow a dull expression, none too pleased with the redhead so far. "Tell me exactly who are you in relation to the patient?"

"I'm...I'm family...” Willow said with some faltering determination.

The RN twitched her mouth to one corner, picking up on Willow's uncertainty. "Are you sure you wouldn't care to revise your statement?"

"Of course, I'm sure! I'm as sure as sure can be!” Her eyebrows raised in unison, conveying the utmost seriousness of her tone.

"Maybe you'd like to confer with the gentlemen who just arrived exactly what relation you are then? He's the only immediate family in the area...so I find what you're saying hard to believe. If you're not immediate family, no admittance. Orders of the family."

She was no-nonsense and painfully straight to the point. Willow seriously doubted any chances to win Nurse No-Nonsense's affections.

The woman continued. "Like I said, immediate family only. Visiting hours are from 9-7 tomorrow. You can wait in the lobby should you wish..."

Willow glanced at the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. She didn't want to wait another almost 4 hours...

Willow began a rambling plea in one glorious, last ditch effort and went in full, uninterrupted, do-whatever-it-takes-babble-mode.

"I'm a cousin, twice removed, from out of town, and I was making a surprise visit to see her, Tara, that is, when a friend, her friend, who is also my friend, had said she was hurt, and that's why she's here, in the hospital obviously, and so while I'm not immediate family, per se, I'm very close to.."

The nurse folded her arms and pointed to the lobby. She wasn't buying it.

Willow desperately needed see her girlfriend. 'My girlfriend...' She contented the way it sounded. She considered simply saying the odd truth of their new-found love story, but who would even begin to comprehend their unusual circumstances? Certainly not Frau Honcho blocking her way...

She turned away from the desk contemplating another method to see Tara. She had to somehow communicate...if she could just touch her. 'I'm here and I'll find a way...'

She took a few paces when she felt light-headed and nearly fainting in the process. The stones were humming loudly in her pocket and their frequency was throwing her senses in a tailspin. She placed her hand against them then reached into her pocket to remove them, for they were burning again. What she found surprised her. The two broken stones had merged together and were whole again. Two into one. Like she and Tara.

The other stone, her own she took from Wales, began buzzing with life, and it also begged to be removed from the cloth interior of her jeans. The moment they both were exposed in her hand a prism of colors enveloped her. “A new protection spell..." She could feel the magic surrounding her, filling her with power. At that precise moment, her previous feeble attempts at magic now became something raw, something powerful, and she knew the magics of the ancient Celts flowing through her.

She turned to face the group of nurses again. They stared, slack-jawed in bewilderment. She extended a hand and carefully pointed to the RN in charge, omitting a white thread of light from her fingertips. Her eyes were dark.

"I'm going to see Tara. Now."

Willow was in no mood to bargain, but as an added nicety she offered a 'please' for good measure. Even high on the magics, she tried to maintain some sense of consideration. Obediently, the nurse obliged. "Yes, of course. This way. Follow me, please."

Willow seemed taller, seemed more confident of herself. Whatever mojo Tara and her family concocted for the heirloom stone, it surged through her body like the very blood which coursed through her veins. It felt natural. The other gemstone hummed and vibrated with a heat, but not intense. It was helping to guide the other gem...or was it the other way around? She knew she had their blessed power and she knew she was very motivated to get her way.

She followed the woman down the corridor, her feet barely skimming the surface.


	8. The Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara has a surprise visitor and Willow has a surprise of her own

Tara had been sleeping and still dreaming of her Willow. The dreams had remained interrupted and peaceful, and she reveled in the intimacy they shared, and all the various ways of kissing they had experienced. She knew Willow was close by and would find a way to see her. She felt her presence and sought comfort in this knowledge. 'I'm here and I'll find a way...' The words resonated in her dreams.

She felt a hand touch her forehead. She initially smiled at the touch... but the hand was cold and hard. This wasn't Willow...she abruptly opened her eyes and looked at the form hovering over her.

"Yes, Tara. It's me."

The man's voice was cold and unfeeling.

"I know you were not expecting this...but I heard, from someone, from your side, that you were hurt. Obviously, you can't handle being in a big city like this. You were fortunate you didn't hurt someone else with your carelessness."

Tara stared and swallowed hard. The tears wanted to flow but would not.

"Dad...you d..d..didn't need to come here."

"Of course I did!" He laughed dryly. "Who else would? You always seem to land in these kinds of situations."

"What s..s..situations? I haven't b..b..been in any...."

"You've been in one the moment you arrived. Don't hassle with me."

His voice remained icy.

"You need to remove yourself from this so called ideal of yours. You should be married, have children and behave like a normal woman should. This counseling position of yours is ridiculous...how can you possibly feel good about helping others when you have family at home you should be considering...and we need you, Tara."

Tara recognized the manipulation tactic he was using.

"They need you, too. You know your brother and little sister are lacking for a mother figure. Don't you care about them?"

Tara couldn't believe what she was hearing. She fought tooth and nail to be free of her isolating and demanding family. He knew of her attraction for women and her strong sense of self and independence. It conflicted with the family ideals. This had nothing to do with her siblings. It had to do with stuffing her feelings and beliefs in a dirty linen closet of lies. He felt shame for her and the desire to inhibit her dreams and goals became his only objective since her mother died.

"Dad. You need to go." She turned her head away from him.

"Where's your charm, Tara?"

She faced him again. "W..w..what?"

"I see you're without it."

"Yes, it's being f..f..fixed." She swallowed hard again.

Her father pulled the sheets off of Tara's body. "You're coming with me. Now!"

\---------------------------

The nurse paced down the hallway, taking even steps as Willow silently glided behind. They approached the door to Tara's room. Willow faced the woman and waved her away.

"That's all. Leave now."

The RN eyed her blankly, catatonic nearly, then turned and began her mindless walk back to the station. She returned to the desk, rubbing her forehead.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" A young CNA put her arm around the disoriented RN. She noticed the other nurses seemed perfectly fine, still chattering away.

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, I just felt a little light-headed for a second. I'll be fine."

'Now, what was I doing?' She fumbled through some papers, still unsure what had just happened.

Willow glanced from the nurse back at the knob on the door. She grabbed for the handle. It was locked.

'Well, we can't have this...'

\---------------------------------------

Tara felt cold and vulnerable. She sheet had held some minor comfort over her wounds but now she was exposed to the elements. She was expected to obey the orders of her father and she couldn't move had she wanted to. Her stitches had begun to burn.

"You're without your precious pendant. You've no protection now. Who's going to come help you, Tara. I am. That's who. I'm your protection now."

Tara forced back the tears. She would not show this man her fears.

He growled at her. She could hear the clicking of his teeth as he spoke.

"Not a brilliant move to take it off...you knew the chance you were taking." He hissed, the spittle coming from the corners of his mouth.

Tara kept eyes shut tight. She didn't enjoy the transformation. He had always hoped she was one of his 'kind' and was thoroughly disgraced she wasn't. She showed no sign of the usual family genetics. She was nothing but a disappointment to him. Her brother had it. So did her sister. Tara wasn't a part of the family traditions of his side. Just a powerful witch like her mother and grandmother.

She heard his labored breathing...generally a sign he was a bit frightened of the change, too.

She opened her eyes, becoming fearful and helpless to move.

Tara stared into large, brimming pools of orange-yellow fire. These eyes emanated a horrific color of menace.

"Oh God..."

\------------------------------------------------------------

Willow stood tall and waved her hand across the door. No locked door would keep her out.

"Open."

She hardly needed to concentrated on the task. The magics had a mind of its own.

The door knob turned downwards and a gentle click of metal sounded, completing the motion. The door swung open fiercely, but without sound. She entered slowly feeling acutely aware of the dark energy in the room.

Her mind flooded with similar fragmented visuals again. She saw images of Tara and her childhood. She felt the oppressive cloud hanging over head of a young girl. A little child who was neglected and misjudged...a beautiful and spirited little girl who was mistreated by those she should trust. The very same girl who became an honorable young woman and had fought so hard to overcome her sense of insignificance. These feelings of negativity were stemming from this other person in the room.

Willow saw the man bent over the bed. She couldn't see his face but saw his arms were under Tara's body. Willow could feel Tara's fear. The poor blonde was rendered immobile. His head was oddly distorted in the dimmed glow of the room.

She spoke hearing her own voice pitching lower than usual.

"She's not for the taking."

He stiffened. He turned towards the newly empowered red-head.

She stifled a cry when she saw his face. He was gruesome and his teeth hung like fangs below the flap of skin she assumed was his mouth. His eyes were glowing orange and his hands were gnarled, the long nails looking more like claws than that of a human.

"You should not be here!" His voice was deep, like that of an animal whose food was being taken away. Willow was more put off than frightened. He went back to his task, digging his grotesque hands under the back and legs of Tara's stiff body.

"Let me rephrase this."

She could feel the magics whipping at her hair.

"Get away from her. NOW!"

He jerked his body around to face his new nemesis.

"There is NOTHING you can do. Take your leave without incident, girl...or...unless...why, yes.." He laughed, a cold and horrible sound. "Yes, I might like to have you for dinner." He eyed her with newfound delight, looking her up and down thoroughly. "Although I prefer my meals with more meat on their bones."

"You won't like me I can assure you that. I'm more of an...acquired taste." She glanced at Tara.

He waved his unnatural hand in a semi-circle, casting a yellowish ball of light. He blew on the floating sphere causing a similar effect of a bullet being shot from a gun. It spiraled towards Willow.

She blast a flux of energy from her palms, blinding the room in white, dazzling light. The beam exploded the orb in a million shards of illuminated fragments.

She quickly cast another. It penetrated the demon's chest.

"NO!"

"I told you it was an acquired kind of thing...." She threw out another beam and it landed between his eyes. The creature fell to the floor, writhing in pain.

"N..n..no..." His breath was raspy and rattled. "Tara...you don't have your protection...how is this possible...."

Willow ran towards the bed. "She has protection!" She kicked the demon thing in what she hoped was the loin area. "I don't know who you are...or what you are exactly...but stay the hell away from her! Nobody messes with my girl...." She put her hand on Tara's shoulder. She pressed one of the gemstones into Tara's weakened hand. Tara held on, feeling energy and power flowing into her, giving her strength to move at will finally.

"Willow! Oh God, Willow...I'm glad you came! Give me the other stone in your hand. Now!"

Willow handed it over and the power immediately drained from her body and transferred to Tara, leaving a weak and exhausted Willow to grab the rail of the bed. The blonde held a palm downward, over her stitches, speaking foreign words of an incantation and watched the wounds heal one by one. Willow, sorely fatigued from the channeling, was amazed with the visual. She recovered enough to offer a small smile of approval.

Tara smiled warmly back at her redhead. "It's going to fine, Willow. I’ve got it from here."

The demon was also recovering. "No, you don't Tara..."

"Willow, I need you to stay over there." She pointed to the window on the other side of the room. Willow shuffled over to where Tara motioned, each step worse than being encased in ice.

Her father, clutching at his chest, had risen to his feet.

"That was the wrong move, little girl..." His eyes were focused on Willow. She was breathless and helpless and completely unable to fend for herself. For the first time, she felt fear.

Tara's father rose to his full height and leapt across the room in two bounds, tackling Willow down to the floor. She tried to defend herself. She hit him with everything she had but her arms were like lead. She had no sensation and no strength. Willow peered in the gleaming and glowing eyes of her predator. If she were going to be at his mercy then she would look the demon in the eye and be brave, not letting him derive enjoyment from his actions.

Mr. Maclay Hellbeast snarled, the fang teeth protruding even longer. "I told you that was the wrong move..." Foam sprayed her face. He smelled awful and his spit stung her skin.

He moved in to take hold of Willow's throat. She saw the snapping jaws close in, identifying their mark, but as quickly as the teeth gnashed, Willow was aware of feeling lighter. Although she couldn't move her limbs, the oppressive weight was gone. The room swooned and the dimness of the room grew darker. 'I guess this is it...'

She took a breathe and made one last vocalization. "Tara!" She slipped into unconsciousness.

The demon was flung across the other side of the hospital room, his body sliding down one wall with a heavy crash.

"As Willow said, nobody messes with my girl!"

Tara stood next to the bed, her hands splayed outward towards her father. The magic of the spell radiated an angelic glow around her. He howled with pain as the side table exploded and splintered, with one of the legs piercing his side. He scrambled upwards preparing to make a dash for her next. She shot another penetrating beam at him, much like Willow’, except it was blue. He sprawled on the floor realizing he was overpowered. He had two large pieces of wood sticking into his abdomen.

"Stop this. I will never be like you, Dad. You are not welcome in my life anymore. My mother left you. You became bitter and for years I took your emotional beatings because of it."

"Tara. I'm the only family you've got left now.” His breathing was pained and ragged, with a hint of remorse and jealousy. "You know, you look like her. You’re the last hold I have of your mother.” He held his leg with one gnarled hand and the other against his stomach, trying to keep his blood from oozing on the floor. "I love you even if you believe I have an unusual way of showing it...even if you're not exactly like us. You're still blood." He grimaced with pain.

"I'm not your blood. I am...like my mother." She turned her eyes towards Willow. "And you're not the only family I've got..." The look did not go unnoticed to her father.

"The ungrateful bitch! She left us and you're following so proudly in her footsteps!"

”That 'ungrateful bitch' married you. She gave me my life. She thought she could heal your darkness. She left you because you attacked her, her beliefs, her background, and her powers. Do not ever speak of her that way again!” Tara walked to where her father lay. He flinched at her nearness. She rest her hand, the one that held the stone, on top of her father's abdomen and then moved it over to his leg. A white, gentle light haloed from her hands. The wounds began healing themselves. She stood up over him, commanding a presence he was forced to accept. "You are just like your mother..." he muttered. “I am” she replied. “And you’re welcome."

Tara felt some pity as was her nature to feel empathy for all those who suffer, even if it was the severely misguided love her father claimed over her. "I won't say this again. Just leave."

As he returned to his human form, he cautiously rose, feeling where his wounds were. He scratched at them. He glared at his daughter, unsure of himself. She just healed him. The gesture, or Tara's goodness, had found its way through a tiny crack in his ego. Tara watched his face morphed back to something of a father again.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I realize I haven’t earned respect, but I’m still angry about it." The tone dripped with the old hurt and betrayal he felt from his widowed wife, his now estranged daughter. Some part of him understood he was solely responsible. He straightened his jacket and pulled at the blood-stained sleeves.

Mr. Maclay stared one last time at his daughter before walking away, at her demands. As he opened the door, he turned around, facing Willow, who was still on the floor. She was awake and watching what was unfolding between Tara and her father with wonderment. 'That's her father?'

"I'm sorry to hurt you. She’s yours now, if that’s your thing."

Willow slightly nodded, feebly receptive of his passive-aggressive attempts to apologize, although he was still a monster.

He then faced Tara. "I'll tell your brother and sister that you are well. I’ll tell them you’re never coming back."

Tara, being a therapist, yet still human and aggravated he was incapable of anything other than a back-handed apology replied "Yes, Dad. I am well. If they want to see me, I’m here. I always have been.” She glanced at Willow, hoping she’d not run away from her after seeing a side of her family she wasn’t proud of in any capacity.

The door hardly closed behind him when Tara let out a small cry of relief. For the first time, in a long time, she held her ground. Another world was beginning to reveal itself to Tara Maclay.

She walked quickly over to Willow, dropping to her knees next to the weakened red-head. "Are you okay?" Concern spread over her features and her eyes penetrated every fiber of Willow's being. She knew of this woman for such a short time...she didn't want to lose her to some very unusual circumstances relating to her family.

"That was some powerful mojo in those stones, Tara. That was...really intense!"

"Yes. I know. It's the power of my mother's side."

"What happened to your mother, Tara?"

"S..s..she died. She died to save me. I’ll explain that to you later, if you want to know more. I remember, though, before she did, she infused her essence into the pendant, as all the women have done in our family. That's the protection and she knew I would need it against my own father. One day, I’ll infuse my own energy to protect someone I love."

"I'm so sorry...I do want to know more about you, and your past. I mean, it must be difficult enough to be bi-cultural and all...and to have a demon for a father! And...and speaking of which, do...do you have that in...you, too?"

"No. It passed from me to my brother and sister. He always disliked me because I was like my mom. She was a powerful Witch, but filled with compassion, grace and used her power to help others. As she did for me."

”Without sounding patronizing, I’m proud of the person you are. You come from a difficult family...your father, I mean, wow...and look how you turned out to be." Willow smiled up at Tara pushing the hair from her own eyes. Tara reached out to offer some assistance. Her fingertips buzzed with contact.

She was finding herself breathless for very different reasons. She was still shaken with how much had taken place the past few hours. She knew she had fallen for Tara, but she needed to process.

"I'm beginning to feel a little better now." Willow saw a sunbeam enter through the window. "Say, it's light out there...ya wanna grab some breakfast with me?"

Tara stood up, reaching for Willow's hands.

Together, they got themselves a bit cleaned up, preparing to face the light of the new day. They headed out the hospital room, down the same hallway Willow had magically glided on, and veered past the receptionist desk. The nurses at the station looked up and smiled casually, seemingly unaware that anything unusual had happened or of Tara's remarkable healing condition. Tara piped up. "We're leaving now!" The woman told them to take care.

The blonde leaned in to Willow. "The magics. This will keep them from asking questions."

Willow nodded and grabbed Tara's hand. The essence of magic seeped into Willow again and she was recharged with Tara’s touch. “Tara, I need to talk to you.” Willow was confused, nervous and needed to ask questions.


	9. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow and Tara have a discussion about Tara’s past and Willow’s growing powers as a Wiccan.

Tara understood Willow needed some time, considering everything that happened so quickly, and she vowed to allow her room to fully process the enormity of what had happened over a short period of time. It would take an open-minded and strong person to understand Tara’s background. A voice broke her thoughts.

“Excuse me, you need to sign out before you can leave!” scrambled one of the nurses to Tara’s side.

The magic still infused in her, she calmly said, “No. There’s a patient in room 614 whom needs your attention.” It was the last wisp of magic she could conjure. She was depleted and exhausted. They exited from the hospital both looking at each other and saying simultaneously, “Pancakes?"

The jostling and hustling of post-dawn breakfast people distracted Willow’s thoughts while they sat and ordered their coffee and pancakes. The images of Tara’s father nagged at her. Although Tara said she didn’t have that demon quality in her, the fact that the man who was her blood kin, and nearly ate her for breakfast, wasn’t boding well. She would glance up at Tara to find only a concerned face staring back at her. Tara had an aura of peace about her. Willow, now infused with a greater sense of magics, could physically see Tara’s aura color. Amethyst.

“You’re thinking about my father, and how overwhelmed you feel with seeing the darkness he possesses. You’re wondering if I could be like him?” Tara reached across the table, resting her hand on the top of Willow’s briefly.

She smiled at the gentle touch. “Tara. I’m a little scared, I won’t hide that from you. He...he was certainly not the most normal looking man I’d ever seen....and...and, when you took the stones from me, why would you help him when he practically tried to kill us both? I get he’s your father and all, but that’s not much of a father in the worst of times.”

“I knew you would wonder that...” Tara searched for the best and most resourceful way to answer such a question. “You see, my mother imparted the spell on the stone for my own protection, but part of the gift of protection was not just for me, but all others who need it, too. He may not be a good, but somewhere in him, he’s not completely evil either, but it would...you know...” She had to take a breath. She was also shaken by how quickly all this happened, how hard she fell for Willow, and how much her father frighted her. “You see, if I didn’t try to help him, it would make me just like him if I walked away. I’d be no better. I healed his wounds in spite of better judgement, some might say.” She continued nervously and Willow could tell she was recalling opinions other people have said about her father. She wondered what her mother saw in the man...or whatever the hell he was. Tara continued. “I guess it makes me the better person, in the long run, or I hope, even if no one understands. He is my father whether I like who he became after my mother left him. He’s part demon, Willow. Cursed by black magics. When he apologized to you, as weak as it was, that was the first time I ever heard him say it. There’s a chance the healing spell I cast may have helped heal a part of him. Even if it filled one small, dark void.”

Willow was impressed by Tara’s incredible sense of awareness and intuitiveness. Tara was right and she was, without question, the better person. “When I think about how I would have handled it, I don’t know if I would have been as thoughtful...but at least you healed yourself with the stones first, and that was by far way more important. That’s my selfish opinion and I’m gonna stick to it.”

“I had to heal myself, or I’d never have a chance to help either of you."

Willow took a sip of her coffee gazing into swirly clouds of cream. “I think seeing your dad when he was all bent over you, forcing you to move when you were obviously unable, with you just fresh out of surgery and all, made me angry. He made me feel so very possessive and angry. When I gave you the stones and felt their energy leaving my body, I was scared because I was the one who had the power, the control...and... and I think I could have killed him, Tara. I was afraid he would try to kill me in return...you know...after I gave the stones back to you...and I realize if you didn’t ask for them back, I might have done it.”

“No!” Tara looked intently at the redhead, forcing blue intensity into green ones. “I would n...n...never let that happen! I know what he would have done but as long as I had them in my possession again, I knew nothing would hurt you. But I had to have them back...I had to control their energies for the right way...the good way.” Tara looked back down, feeling that what she said was arrogant and slightly accusatory. “I’m sorry I said it that way. Power in that intense in anyone’s possession can be dangerous. Remember, I’ve been a practicing Wiccan since my childhood with my mother and grandmother. I had years to learn."

Willow was silent. She listened. She felt small and childlike compared to the wisdom of Tara.

Tara continued. "But the stones are drained now. It took a lot from them to do what they did. They served a dual purpose for you and I both. It was smart you brought yours with you, Willow. It enhanced the combined magics pulling the energies from us both. I’ll have to ‘recharge’ mine with a healing incantation spell first - to let it absorb my energy into it again. A trade-off, basically. I’ll need to teach you how to recharge yours, if you want me to. The magic in those stones have helped every woman in my family and they’ve brought a different purpose according to whom they belonged to. I know you’re very powerful, Willow, but w..w..would you like to help me with the initial cleansing spell? My father imparted an energy that only comes from an evil source from his kind...” Tara hesitated. “A demonic source and I don’t want any of that leftover stuff in the stones...and, also, when I used their healing magics on him, some of his negative flow may have become a part of me as well a part of you now. They chose you, too, since you used them on him. I want us to be clean.” Tara knew their connection is what brought the power of the stones to Willow. They were bonded to each other. The stones, Willow and Tara. She wanted everything to be right, so they could build upon their relationship without any other interference in the way.

Willow smiled softly again, recalling the amazing power she felt when the juice of their magic flowed through her veins, and respected Tara’s wise words that magic needs to be learned, controlled and never abused. “I want to be clean for you. I want to do this right with you. But, Tara, it was...intense! And you should have seen how Nurse Fraulein was at my mercy...and...and maybe I shouldn’t see it like that, but I felt I hardly did much to gain so much power over her.” Willow found herself torn between the awe of the power and the respect of the power. “Tara, you’re right. The magic was too strong and I didn’t know how to control it. I don’t want that to ever get in the way of us again. Will you teach me, Tara?”

Tara looked into the eyes of Willow and silently used one of the Wiccan spells her mother taught to read the will of others. She knew it was a slight betrayal of the trust for Willow, but they had only recently met, and these magics had to be performed safely in the right hands. There was no indication in Willow’s heart for her to worry over - not everyone can learn and magic isn’t meant for everyone, while some are intrinsically gifted. “I will. You’re powerful. I’ll be your anchor, Willow."

The waitress brought them each a short stack of buttermilk pancakes and each dropped the present conversation in favor of eating. It had been a while since either had food...and the fresh pancakes dripping with butter was beckoning complete attention from both.

“Mmmm! Pancakes in bellies!” Willow hungrily shoved a huge bite in her mouth, even without the syrup. Tara followed suit.

After their dishes were picked up and the tab was paid for, Tara tried to stifle a yawn. It didn’t escape an attentive Willow.

“I know you’re exhausted. Let me take you home now.”

“I could use some sleep.” Tara looked out the glass doorway, her eyebrows dipping to convey a thought. "You know, since you drove, and I know you’re tired, too, you’re more than welcome to rest at my place....I mean...if you wanted to...you don’t have to...but if you felt like driving home was too much....”

Willow wondered Tara would be so nervous again. Heck, they already covered this territory.

She reached across the table and put Tara’s hand in her own. "I’d love to. First, we can sleep, process this and talk more after we’re rested up."

Tara squeezed the redhead’s hand tightly. "There’s a lot to talk about. And talking is a specialty of mine, believe it or not. I’m trained to be a listener, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need to have someone listen to me." 

Tara stood up and moved to Willow’s side, turned her face towards her and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. She took hand in her own, not caring in the world who was looking. Tara was exhausted, but still a bit high on the magics, which left her feeling sexual. She could make love to Willow on top of the table they just ate their pancakes on. She wouldn’t care.

“Let’s go home, now."


	10. Lover’s Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow asks Tara to be her guide, but not before some rest and relaxation.

The lightening fractured and split in unison with the chorus of thunder belting out in the darkened skies. The night was looming upon the remaining daylight quickly and the fierceness of the storm yielded a sense of nature’s power, without the magics. The lights had flickered on and off occasionally threatening to merge itself within the pending darkness. A few sudden outbursts of cracking thunder had made both women jump nervously. Willow grabbed for Tara’s shoulder.

“Whoa! That's some kinda noise maker out there!”

The blonde jolted, too, but not so much from the noise, as it was from the touch of a very beautiful witch.

“Um. Yeah, it sounds...really fierce outside.” She bucked again when Willow’s hand slid from her shoulder down her back before reclaiming it’s space beside the redheaded owner. Tara stood up.

"We should have a drink and settle in...and I’ll go look for..um...look for some...” She trailed off in mid-thought, heading towards her purse resting on a bar stool in the kitchen.

Willow watched her walk away understanding the distraction. She suddenly thought to light a few candles... those ’just in case’ candles. The kind of candles you light in a romantic setting, hoping if the lights will go out in the middle of a huge thunderstorm kind of candles, it doesn’t destroy the mood kind of candles. Her emotions sparked with similar intensity as the storm. She bemused at her hidden agenda. Perhaps she subconsciously beckoned the storm for this very purpose. She wouldn’t put it past herself. She glanced back over to Tara, who seemed to read her very mind and was fidgeting with a pack of matches she pulled from her purse.

Tara had her own emotional interlude in play. ‘Damn these matches.’ Her hands were damp and she couldn’t get the match head to light. The adrenalin pushed and pounded through her veins causing those same damp hands to slightly tremble in anticipation. She, yet again, broke another match stick. Pulling one from the box, she turned it upwards, at eye level.

“Ignitus.”

The little wooden stick silently glowed. She put the match to the wick of a large candle in the middle of the counter top, then turned towards Willow. “Uh...you caught me.” Tara applied her wonderful sheepish grin.

“That’s okay. You’re allowed, you know.” The redhead smiled in return, letting her eyes linger gingerly over the open folds of Tara’s blouse...she got a stunning view of exceptional cleavage which was not to be missed, even in the dim light. Willow forced herself to turn her head, as she was all too aware of her sudden libido. She stepped over the to the entertainment center, the huge sound system Tara had bought for herself a few months ago, and began fumbling through her assorted selection for something nice to play.

Tara waited a moment before she sat down again, tugging her blouse open to further reveal a luscious neck and collarbone, and unfastening yet another button past naughty. The blonde knew what she wanted on the eve of this night. She had placed two glasses of wine on the wrought iron table but didn’t want to start sipping until Willow had taken a seat beside her. She felt a celebratory toast coming and wished to share a mutual communion of her new found romance.

Overwhelmed by Tara’s enormous vinyl collection, Willow saw Tara had an Alexa and didn’t hesitate to tell her what to play. The soft, soothing tune of Celtic voices filtered through the speakers, just loud enough to be noticed but not overwhelming. This was a unique night, indeed, and she wanted something haunting and reflective of the storm’s mood to be playing. She felt charged and alive, sensually powerful and seductive, all wrapped with a tender candy-coated shell. A shell she’d like Tara to lick completely clean.

“This okay with you?” She raised her one eyebrow, searching Tara’s expression for approval.

“I like it. It’s perfect actually.”

“I’m glad you like...it seems to fill all those spaces in between me, especially when I’m alone.”

Willow strode over to the sofa and sat next to the beguiling blonde with the exposed neckline. Her actions had not gone unnoticed at all.

“Well, you’re not alone now...” Tara placed her hand gently across Willow’s cheek, softly caressing the delicate complexion of the woman looking back. Willow closed her eyes instinctively to the arousing touch.

The blue eyed woman abruptly stopped and leaned in for the two glasses of wine.

“It’s just so nice to be here together and I’d like to propose to you....” She hesitated, reflecting within the green eyes now opened wide. She double-tracked, realizing her words come across as terribly hasty for not knowing someone very long in chronological terms. “What I’m saying is that I’d like to make a toast in honor of all that’s happened, as we found each other, and remain together, overcame some pretty weird stuff...and...and...it's all because of a necklace needing repair.”

Tara reached again to place something back on the table and raised her glass in a mock salute. Willow smiled and followed suit. They both had their glasses raised to the stone each had possessed.

“To the legacy of the stone, then!”

“Yes, to the legacy of the stones...”

“May we create new legacies of our own, in the now and...” Tara dropped her eyes for a moment before taking in all of Willow’s green ones, ..." in the future.”

“Absolutely!”

They clinked their glasses together.

“Thank you, Tara, for having me here.”

“I’m very happy you're here. The night...it’s special, and I can feel the energy...the magic...it breathes all around us.”

Willow slowly nodded her head. She knew exactly what Tara was saying. The magic was coming from them now. Not just the stones. She couldn’t wait for the details of this evening to keep unfolding. But Willow knew that this evening was just the start to something incredible....and she was going to let the night linger as long as possible.

“Hey, Tara?” the redheaded spoke so softly.

She finished sipping from her glass and faced Willow’s question. “Mmmm?”

“Wait here, okay? I’ve got something for you.”

“You...you do?”

“Yes, but I want you to keep your eyes closed and do not open them until I say so. Will you do this? Please?”

“Oh, yes, of course I will.” She folded her hands in her lap and stayed still, waiting expectantly for her surprise.

“Okay, gimme just a sec...”

It seemed like eternity. Tara usually was good at keeping her word. However, she cheated and opened one eye, just slightly so she could peak at the sexy form walking down the hallway.

Willow, without turning around, called out. “I know you’re looking! I can feel you!”

Tara smiled.

‘Yep. We’re connected alright.’


	11. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow gives Tara a gift of a lifetime; a gift that reaches through them both.

As soon as she turned the corner, Willow put her hand on the corner of the wall, in Tara's bedroom which smelled of her delicious scent and perfume, to support her trembling frame. Tara took the breath from her lungs, pumped new life in her beating heart, and filled her with anticipation and urgency. The adrenaline surge fueled her senses to new proportions.

So, why did she come back to the bedroom? What was she supposed to get? Her thoughts were lost in bits and fragments still...the events of recent past still gripping her subconscious, but slowly the fog was beginning to clear. Her emotions were lately getting the better of her composure...not like that’s a bad thing really. It’s just so new. Her eyes landed on what she intended to give Tara..

“There it is.”

Willow made haste, grabbed what she was looking for from a small bag in her purse and headed back out towards the living room again.

As she rounded back into the airy and spacious room, hands behind her back, she caught a breathtaking view of the woman sitting on the couch. She had not yet caught Willow’s eye. The redhead stopped, in mid-pace, to absorb the way the pale glow of the candles cast long and sensual shadows across the curves of the blonde’s body. Slowly, Willow approached and cleared her throat to announce an arrival which would not completely catch Tara off guard.

Their eyes held a lingering moment together.

“Nice to see you again.” Tara said with her sexy grin.

“You were supposed to have your eyes closed, remember?” Willow grinned back, giddy with the warmth of Tara’s blossoming smile.

Quickly, Tara closed her eyes again. “They’re closed now.” With the lingering smile still aglow on her angelic face, Willow walked up to her softly and sat down.

“Well, as you now know, I have something for you...well, it was for me, really, but I think this is more you. I mean, it’s all for you but it’s something I picked up from my travels to Wales. I don’t know why I got it because it wasn’t something I thought I’d have for myself. Not completely something I thought I’d have, because it’s not me, but it is me.”

Tara wasn’t quite following the nervous babble of Willow, but stayed quiet with her eyes closed to allow her the composure she needed.

“And, Tara, I think we both know how much of I’ve become a part of you.”

Willow paused a moment. Tara wanted to open her eyes but waited for Willow to finish patiently.

"Anyway, an interesting story how I found it. While in Wales, I was at a local coffee shop with lots of magazines strewn about. I picked up one from some pile, opened up to a random page, and there was a similar picture of what I have in my hands. When you see it, I’ll explain more.”

Willow reached out, from behind her back, and put the object in Tara’s hands. “Open your eyes...”

Tara looked down at her hands and let out a gentle gasp when she saw the delicate fabric, rich with texture and colors, folded in a nice little square. She held it up by one end and let it unfold itself until it spilled into a long and beautiful scarf. The scarf was a soft forest green with delicate blue hues washed throughout. The most spectacular part about this scarf were the genuine threads of silver and gold spun within the fabric, into a very special and symbolic shape Tara loved immediately. It was soft and gentle to the touch in spite of the finely woven strands of precious metals into the material. “Oh Willow...how did you know?”

Willow watched her intently. Tara’s reaction was a gift in itself, but she missed Tara’s last sentence completely. She was intent on finishing her version of the events. “I don’t know if I did know then, except it spoke to me the same way the Preseli Bluestone did to me by the river stream. When I saw the artisan’s collection of scarves in the magazine, I contacted her for an unusual and special request. I asked her to fabricate it with the same colors of the gemstones, but as I brought with me fine spun gold and silver...you know, I often enjoy doing intricate work to keep me busy between down times. I give lectures on metal-smithing to rare antiquities and when I’m anxious, or feeling bored, I take the fine wire and make ornamental pieces, such as hummingbirds...”

Tara’s mind reeled. Did she say hummingbirds? One of Tara’s favorite birds to watch and admire. They trust her so much they will feed from her hand.

...”and I asked if she could incorporate the gold and silver into the shape of a hummingbird within the fabric of the Welsh linens. She was able to do so. I had to wait 6 months to receive it here in the States."

“It’s just beautiful...it’s stunningly beautiful, Willow.” Tara could barely look up. She was lost in the patterns of the scarf.

But Willow continued on. “I don’t know what inspired me to do such a thing. I knew I’d never sell such a thing and most likely never wear it since I don’t wear neck scarves. I guess, well, now that I think about it, I always knew this would be a gift to someone I loved. Ever since I held the rock rough at the Stonehenge site, I think I just knew I’d meet someone and it would be significant because it would tie us both together. To find someone bound and committed to me, and, if I may be so bold to say, because it’s reciprocal, of course, to be just as committed...to you."

Tara was astounded. She was rendered speechless which was a good thing since Willow was still doing all the talking. She had found a similar design, except it wasn’t real gold or silver, but just a print of a hummingbird scarf, in a random catalog once, and had wanted to buy it for herself. She left the catalog on top of some magazines she had in her psychology office quite by accident, probably late for a client, and after her day ended, she went back to see it had disappeared from the pile. She lost the contact information and number to place the order; something she regretted deeply. She couldn’t believe something she wanted, like a calling, but a million times better, was in her hands right now.

“Willow, this is the most amazing...it’s such a beautiful work of art, but I can’t take it...it’s yours and...the money it must have cost you.”

“No. I want you to have it. No arguing with me. Please. It’s yours and like I said, I knew when I saw it I had to have it...” she trailed off. “And you’re that reason. Without question.” She looked into Tara’s sultry blue eyes falling in love by the second. "I hope you like hummingbirds?”

Tara leaned in and embraced Willow fully. She was going to give her the deepest kiss of her young life.

Willow, pressed against the back of the couch now, simply gave in. She wasn’t in control mode, nor did she care to be. She finally knew what it meant to ‘let go’ and be in the moment. Willow, of level head and responsibility and pleasing others to the point of her own discomfort, especially in relationships, now fully comprehended what it meant to finally. Just. Be. In. The. Moment.

Tara pushed her full lips softly onto Willow’s. She open-mouthed kissed at first, showing Willow the deepest of love and respect by going slow, allowing the internal fire to build between them both. She pushed her tongue into Willow’s open and inviting mouth, deeply tasting her, but still moving slowly, deliberately, and patiently. Willow was full-steam ahead ready, but vowed to let Tara take the helm. This was her ship to sail and she was going let her Captain give the orders.

“Willow."

“Yes, love?” Willow’s eyes were still closed, and her mouth agape as she was ravaging her hands through Tara’s soft blonde locks. She couldn’t help herself.

Tara dropped her voice easily an octave. It was pure sex. “I’m going to remove your shirt now."

Willow was as thunderstruck as the storm earlier. Never had such a simple command made her body tremble with nearly climatic results.

Tara unbuttoned her shirt, one by one, until only an exposed chest with a lacy bra was showing. The hook to the bra was in the front and Tara wasted no time in unhooking it deftly with one hand. She may have admitted to second-guessing her abilities as she was known to be klutzy at times, but with Willow, something changed. She was confident. She was secure.

Willow’s breasts were revealed and ready, with taught nipples begging to be taken. Tara took one in her mouth gently, making swirling laps around the tip with her wet tongue. She moved to the other breast while running her hands down to Willow’s abdomen. Tara must have subconsciously infused her power of the magic, for her palms had begun to glow a soft, radiant light. Wherever Tara ran her hands along Willow’s body, she bolted in contractions of pleasure. One miniature orgasm after another all while practically clothed.

This was going to be a wonderful night...


	12. Charging the Stones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara asks for Willow’s help to charge the stones, but gets more than she bargained for.

A fully satiated Willow was the first to wake up, looking over at the soft and womanly curves of Tara, the woman she fully opened and allowed to consummate every part of her last night. No fears, no regrets, no morning after mishaps. She’d call the Lesbian U-Haul Hotline right now, if she could.

Tara murmured in her sleep and slowly awoke to a see Willow staring at her. “G’mornin’. Tara was still exhausted and Willow knew she needed more sleep.

“Ssshhhh, baby. Go back to sleep. I’m going to get us some some breakfast and do a coffee run, okay?”

“Mmmmm, yes, please.” Tara was out now snuggled up on the pillow Willow slept on.

\------------------------------

Willow took some time to get a nice, hot meals and espressos to bring back to Tara’s home. It felt like her home, too. She walked into the front door to see Tara was up already, and walking around in a tee shirt and not much else. Willow felt hungry for something else.

“Hey! I brought goodies!”

She set them on the kitchen table while Tara brought out some forks, napkins, and other necessities before digging in.

“Willow?”

Tara looked at her. “Are you feeling better today? Emotionally, I mean?”

Willow got up, walked over to her, planted a supple kiss on Tara’s lips, and then put a mouthful of eggs benedict into her mouth. “I’m all sorts of good!” Willow beamed.

“Good! That’s great, because...um...I w...was thinking we...I mean...if you’re up for it...”

“Honey, it’s okay with me, I swear it. I’m really so, so, so good.”

Tara tried it again. She disliked her stutter and the way it took about 20 IQ points from her, or so she felt.

“We need to recharge the stones. If it’s not done in the correct window of time, they could lose their power, and I can’t take that chance. They mean too much to me.”

“Oh, absolutely, Tara, of course! I...I don’t know how I can help, but I’m happy to do whatever you need. Okay?”

“When it’s time, I’ll let you know, but until then, I think you should look over the papers I’ve been meaning to show you. I’d like to explain to you more about my family. You can’t help but wonder about my Dad. He’s part demon. My brothers and sister are, too. I’m sure you’re questioning how I know I’m not if they are. A lot has happened, Willow, and although we’ve connected so well, I need to tell you that while, so far in my life, I’ve only exhibited signs of being a Witch, like my mother, my grandmother and great-grandmother before me, I won’t really know until the ritual cleansing of the stones. They will be the most pure, and the most revealing of my essence. Each woman in my family they’ve been passed down to, the stone revealed something unto them, that was meant only for them until time came to share. I won’t know my part until I do this ritual. Because you infused your own magics into them, they’ve become a part of you and that’s why you’ll need to contribute your essence. It may not be pretty. We each will get visions of whatever our fears are, our darknesses are and it can be intense. This has been a lot for you for a new Wiccan. Please take a few days away from me and reflect. This isn’t me rushing you away from me. I want nothing more than to make love to you in every conceivable fashion.” She hesitated, afraid to look into Willow’s eyes. This was so much damn information to take from any experienced Witch...how could she possibly expect Willow to...

“I trust you."

“It’s not like anything we’ve ever done. I’d have to anchor you and you’d have to anchor me, and I need to teach you these things..."

“I trust you.” said Willow, firmly yet gently.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Tara set out the gems surrounded by candles, incense, Tarot cards and some oils permeating the rooms of the house, she brought out a mirror she had in an old chest. She set it out in front of all the needed ritual supplies.

“In order to invoke the power of the gemstone and it’s power, I gave it a date.” Tara looked uneasily at Willow. It’s a special date I use in honor of the witches who were killed for being who they are. The date it started was in the year 1484. There’s a way to call upon them, from that year, to ask for their guidance and ask if they are willing to offering healing, given so many were left tormented. I dedicated this in their honor so they can, at least in this essence of asking, use their powers to keep the bloodlines of the Witches strong."

Willow froze. It was her turn to be stunned. “Tara. Tara, hold on a sec.” Willow paced back and forth, clearly agitated.

“Willow, what is it? What’s going on?"

  
“That’s my passcode to my shop."

\-------------------------------------------------

“I mean, maybe it’s just a big ole coinkydink, but Tara. My passcode was that because I chose it as a a broken code of sorts. 4 being the years I’ve been practicing Witchcraft, 8 being my lucky number and 84 being when my favorite grandmother passed away. I always thought I didn’t have much in the way of magic, or powers, as most of my spells turn out soup, but my maternal side had expressed some Jewish traditions of the mystic beliefs."

She took a deep breath and looked at Tara who focused on her intently. “What about your father’s side?"

“He’s Irish. We don’t speak. He left us and never looked back."

“You and I come from similar backgrounds, minus the demon dad, but I guess it was a vile and demonic thing to leave you and your mom like that,” Tara directed softly. “The Irish side of you, can you trace your family through his side or do you have any contact with any of his relatives?"

“Once, when I was little, I met my other grandma, his mom, and she would do magic tricks for me. I have old photos and I could see she loved me. Her face was always smiling. I never saw her but a few times because when my father left, we never saw anyone on his side again. Although my Mom is Jewish, and I respect that part of my heritage greatly, I also feel connected to the Druids - the ancient Celts and the ways of their magic and traditions. Maybe it comes from my father, I dunno."

"Magic is in all of us in some form, but some of us have it stronger than others, or able to utilize it in ways other people don't want to see, or haven't seen yet. Wherever it comes from, Willow, it's in you. I felt it the moment we met at your jewelry shop. My gifts of magic are more sublime. I can heal, I can sense pain in people, I can read minds to some extent. You...you have something different..." 

"Tara, that's really kind of you, I guess, if kind is the right word, but the only real magic I felt is when I held your stone with mine. The power were in them and I was a conduit. Nothing more."

Tara half-smiled, but refused to say more. She knew something Willow could not see and wasn't sure she wanted Willow to see.

"Before we start, here are the documents and papers about my family, where we come from and how the stone came into our family. My great-grandmother brought it from her mother in England, though our family history traces far back into the late 1200's from England. During the Witch hangings and trials of England, the family moved to Wales and isolated within the Welsh hills. Some to Scotland. It's always been turbulent times where ever my ancestors went. In 1484, was the year they came to the new land just prior to the colonies of America being founded, to escape persecution. They didn’t know persecution would be waiting for them when they arrived here, too. They had to practice in secret. They married men to continue the bloodlines, but often had relations with other women. We just see things differently. Men can’t give birth so often times they create their own pain, where as we carry ours internally, or even through the act of birthing a child."

Willow flipped through the pages and saw the lineage of her mother's ancestral lineage traced just as Tara said. She listened intently to every word and could feel her family’s history of pain and violence within. She put the papers down. The gems were on the table, in an antique bronze dish, surrounded by the candles, incense and the incantation book Tara would be using to initially cleanse the stones.

"I'm ready if you are." Willow was nervous. This was beyond her scope and she wasn't sure what to do. "I do what you need, but Tara...I don't know what you need from me."

"I need you to relax your mind, empty your thoughts and keep your energy focused on me. That's all. I'll do the rest."

Willow nodded. Tara reached for her hand, gave it a light squeeze, and held onto it tightly. She gave an encouraging nod of her head and then waved her hand over the book. A magical wind whipped up the book to the page Tara needed to be recite.

"Oh Ancient Ones, please hear our call!" The ritual had begun. Willow looked around the room to see the flickering candle light, threatening to blow out with the realeased winds from this spell. As Tara continued, the wind gained more energy as it began whipping at their hair, at the book pages, causing the incense smoke to rise in swirling ropes to the ceiling. She tried to clear her thoughts and look at Tara. Something was beginning to take hold of her. She reached out for Tara's other hand. They connected and she felt better. She closed her eyes. 


	13. Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Tara calls upon her ancestors and those of the past to begin the cleansing ritual of the gems, Willow feels something darker.

Tara was still speaking, but in a language she couldn’t understand. Was it Gaelic? Latin? She wasn’t sure. She was getting sucked further into the ritual and feeling dizzy, as if spinning into a Vortex within the room, yet not moving at all. The only thing stirring was wind coerced by magic inside the living room scattering loose pages unto the floor and against the wall.

Tara looked at Willow, and placed her forehead against her, looking deeply into her eyes. She squeezed Willow’s hands tightly and that’s when it happened.

Darkness. Silence. Eerie quiet. Hardness.

Willow had no sense perception. She couldn’t feel Tara’s hands any longer. She felt fear. Slowly, from the darkness, she saw a silhouette of a woman. She heard other women’s voices, too, but in a misty shroud she couldn’t identify. 

“YOU!” cried out a woman’s ghostly voice. “YOU DO NOT BELONG TO US!”

\----------------------------------

Willow turned into the voices and the sound where they came from. She wasn’t alone now. There was someone nearby, just to the side of her. A fuzzy, silhouette of a figure, but definitely female and as she slowly stepped into Willow’s altered dimension perceptions, this woman looked similarly to Tara.

“YOUR KIND AREN’T WECOME!” The voices boomed in unison from somewhere just out of reach.

The tone was severe. Not at all what she envisioned white magic and the Witches who practiced it to be about. Tara had warned her she may have visions, and dark ones at that, but she couldn’t tell if the voices were directed to her, or the girl who looked so much like Tara. Was it Tara? Why would they warn her away? ‘Are they warning me away?’ Thoughts gave way to more fears. Willow had nowhere to go.

The girl in the shadows moved forward and placed a hand on Willow’s corporeal shoulder form. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of this,” she said in a voice much to matter-of-fact. The voice was so much like Tara’s, just monotone and without emotion. “You just take it nice and slow and don’t move, whatever you do.” Willow was wafting on some ethereal wisp of nothingness, unsure if the voice and the body belonged to her beloved. She was between a state of dreaming and hallucinating and it was dizzying, terrifying, and she wanted out. She was afraid. Every muscle memory struggled to move. Willow turned toward the girl's face to see she was morphing into Tara as the outstretched hand held onto her. “This won’t take long, Willow."

As quickly as she said those words, she turned on Willow, fangs and red eyes glistening, glaring and threatening to spill her soul out for whatever dimension awaited her. “NO TARA!” she silently screamed. Her fears of Tara being demon came true. The person she so easily offered herself to wasn’t at all the person Willow believed.

“Tara?” laughed the other voice with unmoving lips. “Tara is nothing. She’s nothing to me!” 

Willow understood what was happening. The girl was not Tara, but Tara’s sister. Her sister was half witch-half demon, and the spell called her into the gems' essence because of their shared mother. She was going to attack Willow just as Tara’s father had done.

“You don’t belong here and you don’t deserve the protection spell of my mother’s stone! I’ll crunch it into pieces before I allow you to touch it! Tara will be the last Witch in our family and no one can protect her from that. Not even you!"

Willow didn’t have Tara’s help. She didn’t have the gemstone in her possession, but she was tied to it, like a cosmic string. She didn’t know where Tara was, but she remembered one of the incarnation rites Tara spoke of in the documents of their maternal line, before they prepared for this cleansing spell. As she repeated the words,

“I will not allow you to harm Tara. If you destroy the stone, I can still protect her.” Willow’s voice was calm, even, almost menacing. She closed her eyes, tried to focus on the light quickly streaking out of her as the darkness grew. 

_"Is Tu Mo Chridhe, M ’Anam, Mo Ghaol"_

Hot flashes of silver light momentarily brought Willow out from the darkness. Her head rolled back, her face entranced, and her green eyes turning into black moons, she rose from her feet off the ground, staring at the girl before her.

“You cannot have me, you cannot have the stone, you cannot have Tara, and they are right; you are not welcome here."

\-----------------------------------------


	14. Darkness Becomes Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow is consumed by the magics without Tara’s support. Will she overcome their power or will the power overcome her?

Her green eyes turned black with red fire spreading from her pupils. The magics were strong. Stronger in her than any other moment she felt in her life. Other than the powerful love she felt for Tara, she felt an all consuming darkness as the alternative rival. She could kill with these powers. She wanted to.

\------------------------------------

Tara’s sister-demon self shrunk with the rise of Willow’s newly founded powers of darkness. She spitted out, she hissed at Willow. “You’re a far worse demon than I ever could be. You should join us. The destruction, the devastation and the dynasty we could be. I’d serve you well. I could...offer you power and pleasure greater than you think you know now.”

Willow felt temptation. She could consume this feral rat of a demon for breakfast. She could fulfill every wanton sexual urgency and implode the girl into nothing more than dust. Such was the rage that flowed through her, as the visceral reminder of Tara’s father trying to harm them both in the hospital fueled a deep hatred for this bloodline of Tara's. This bitch was a measly obstacle in her way; a wretched reminder of Tara’s family she despised - if she killed her, would Tara know? A quick shiver of light ran through her and a shadowed voice layered in her thought echoed, “I won’t know if I’ve got it in me until the cleansing ritual and the stones will tell me”. Tara. What if, what if Tara....

\--------------------------------------

Tara felt a powerful force overwhelm her. It wasn’t coming from her. She knew that power emanated from Willow. She knew Willow had it within her and it had been a slow, gnawing concern she could lose Willow to the dark magics. To have someone so connected was nearly preternaturally bizarre if you looked at it from afar. She was too white hot close to be objective. She had her own demon to fight.

She was still in her living room, with the candle flames unnaturally large within their wax frames, the wind still whipping everything into a frenzy and the stones rattled on the dish they were placed in.

Tara had no choice. She knew Willow was fighting a darkness greater than she’d known and she wasn’t alone in that fight. She felt someone was with her. She picked up the stone from her family’s maternal legacy. It seared with fire in her hands. She put it on the table and picked up one of the tools she hoped she not have to use within the ritual. A rock hammer.

She took the rock hammer and smashed the stone into pieces.


	15. Breaking of her Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara smashes her family heirloom with purpose as she senses Willow’s desires to be evil.

The moment the stone broke, in choppy fragmented pieces, the visions came to Tara. She saw Willow, large black orbs for eyes fused with red electricity from her pupils.

“NOOO!” screamed Tara, silently in her vision. Willow couldn’t hear her. She was in another time space. Tara then saw her sister, clawing and baring teeth at Willow. She understood what happened.

During the spell, her sister had been inadvertently summoned because the powers of the gem were appropriated for all the women in the family. The stone didn’t differentiate the demon side of her sister, for she was, after all, still a daughter to the witches.

Tara had to get to Willow. Her mind was blank. She broke her stone so it couldn’t offer protection to the wrong person, meaning her demon sister. It also couldn’t provide protection for Willow, a true Witch.

Willow cast a blue flame from her palms directed at her sister. Tara’s mind reeled. She may not be on good terms with them, but she never wanted any of them hurt...or worse. She knew Willow had nothing to lose...after all, her own father tried to kill both she and Willow just a few nights ago.

She didn’t like to see Willow so easily influenced by her new and uncontrolled powers. The darkness frightened her. She was much more powerful than Tara, but Tara had control, had willpower and years of experience to temper the desires of magic.

She saw Willow’s stone still in the dish.

Then the answer came.

To be continued....


	16. Chapter 16

Tara grabbed the gemstone and felt the surge of electric power run through it, into her own palms, and a blue-white dancing light flickered between her hands.

“Willow. Hear my call!”

Willow was on a magic bender and her a fuzzy vague reference of her name, but didn’t care. She cared only about ridding the world of this rodent trash that tried to inflict harm upon her and Tara.

“Willow. By bloodlines of the Witches and my ancestral home, HEAR MY CALL!”

With a snap and a sudden bright, then diffused light, Tara was gone from her room. The candles snuffed out and all was still again. All was the same except two things were missing. Tara and the Willow’s stone.

\-------------------------------

Willow dropped to the ground. Her magics were gone from her in an instant. She had no protections. She had willed magic beyond any ability she had known, aside from Tara, and now she was naked, and vulnerable to this woman whom Tara called a sister.

As she looked over at the once red-eyed, fanged creature she saw nothing more than a crumpled heap upon the dark floor. She was laying beside her, looking at her wildly, and feeling just as vulnerable and exposed without her demon side to protect her.

They were on even ground, albeit exposed because neither had the power but their vulnerable selves.

“Willow. I’m here. Listen for my voice. I need you to incant to bring me to corporeal form.”

‘Tara!’ she called out silently. ‘I don’t remember!'


	17. Listen

Willow had begun to panic. She could hear Tara’s voice speaking into her from somewhere faraway, yet not. It was like static in the wind, sometimes it came in clearly and other moments, it was barely a whisper.

‘Yes, you can remember. We did it together. I made you practice until you knew it. Think of us holding hands chanting into the candle. I can’t say it to you, for it can only be said one time for my presence and powers to be revealed, in order to manifest. Think of the key pad, Willow. Think of the numbers. The numbers you put into your own code to your shop unknowingly that you’re one of us. You’re one of the Witches. 1484, Willow. Think of how, even when you get upset, it will come to you. It will always come to you!’

Willow fought hard to remember. She could see the vision Tara was emitting in her mind’s eye, but she was nervous, terrified even, and whenever she felt anything remotely similar, she blanked. ‘The worst timing, Rosenberg!’ Her memory was all but gone from her. Now she faced mounting pressure which only made things worse.

‘I’m so sorry Tara! I can’t do this..I can’t do this! And...and she’s here...with me...and standing up. I can’t get up, Tara, I can’t!’

Tara’s voice soothed her. ‘You can, Willow. I love you.’

The blonde woman now rose above Willow. It was uncanny how much she looked like Tara, nearly a twin. To see such hatred into the soft eyes she shared with Tara was unsettling.

She moved forward to Willow, still unmoving on the groundless ground.

She kicked her cleanly in the stomach.

Willow cried out, writhed on the floor of this nothingness, and wanted to vomit, if she could.

She was kicked again, this time in the head. Now, Willow was angry. She was livid. Something in her snapped. The incantation came to her immediately. It takes anger to rouse Willow’s memory when flooded with anxiety, or fear, or frustration, she was realizing.

Willow clutched at her side, managed to roll over onto her knees, and put one foot under herself and lifted herself off the blackness with the other hand on her own knee, using it for strength and stability.

“You ain’t got no powers, bitch, and you’re gonna die for taking Tara away from us, for turning her into one of you!”

She could hear Tara vibrating on her frequency again. ‘Willow. I need you to hurry. I’m losing my momentum in this space. Please.”

Between her anger of being hit and her fear of losing Tara, the words flooded her. She began to recite and Tara’s weak voice grew stronger as they incanted together.

In the darkness, a grey mist formed, shapeless and uneven. Willow repeated the incarnation again until the misty form grew shape unto it, and Tara’s voice grew stronger from the direction of the ghostly figure. With the final word spoken, Tara materialized. She quickly took in Willow to see she was bleeding from the side of her head and clutching her stomach, half-doubled over.

Tara was now furious. “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay your sisterly love?”

She squared up on her sister, her flesh and blood, shoulder to shoulder. “If you want to hit someone, then hit me. I’m the one who left as well as our mother, but I know she loved you as much as she loved me, Beth. You followed the path of our father and chose anger, resentment and bitterness. The stone calls to you too. You are ALSO a daughter to the witches in our family, whether you’re proud of that or not. And I have the power to take away your demon, if you wish. Do you want to stay this way, or do you want to know a life of peace?”

“I fucking hate you, Tara. Send me back or whatever with your powers, but I’m never leaving our Dad’s side, unlike you, you traitorous bitch!”

Willow was shocked to hear this sister...Beth was it...being so cold and unkind, but the demon pull was strong in her. In some small regard, Willow understood it. The power of the gems flowing through her gave her an air of superiority, of invincibility, of protection from anyone who might hurt her. Then Willow saw what Tara saw. A frightened child of a woman doing the only thing she knew to protect herself. To stay a demon to her anger; a monster for her own self-preservation.

“I love you, Beth. I always will. Go back to Dad. I recant the power of the stones to protect you any further, or for them to pull you in. If you go back to Dad’s way, you will lose our mother forever. You will forget she existed. Her will and her memories will no longer be any part of your life.”

“I don’t care what you do you horrible fuck. Get me out of here!”

Tara raised her hands, with tears streaming her face. “I love you little sister. I wish things could be different.”

Beth looked away. Willow could see some crack in her will, but she refused to budge. They both knew, this would be the end of this story. Tara would be an orphan of sorts, and Willow was determined to be her family.

A blue-ish light crackled between her fingertips as Tara held her hands up toward her sister. She said some words in Gaelic and her sister slowly dissolved in the time space that brought Tara in the same way. As she was about to disappear back to her own dimension again, Tara looked into the familiar eyes of her sister, so much like hers and their mother. She thought she saw a flicker of sadness in them and the motion of her sister wiping away at a tear. Then, she was gone.

Willow ran up to Tara and put her arms around her. Tara flung her arms around her in return. “Willow, are you okay?”

“How can you think of me when you just lost the only family you had? I felt her crack open a little, Tara. She might have come around if you tried more? I don’t mean that to hurt you!”

“No, she made up her will. I sensed it within. I lost her and I’m sad...I...I always will wonder...if...if my mother were alive still would things be different. But she blames me for her death, probably because our dad told her to blame me. I was always the scapegoat.”

“Oh, Tara, I’m so sorry.”

“Willow. I’m...I’ll be okay.” She looked around noting how little time they had left in this place before it would swallow them whole. “I have you, Willow. I have you."

They embraced, Tara gave Willow a quick, deep kiss, but not before extracting herself from Willow’s arms to examine her head and stomach. She moved her hands alongside Wlllow’s face and body; the light from her hand healed the wounds quickly.

“Willow, I have just enough power to get us back. I need to tap into your source. You have power...and...and it can be dark sometimes. I don’t mean to scare you, but you need to know this about yourself. I’m not saying *you’re* dark, but your emotions of revenge, or anger, can turn it into something more ominous. You must control the flow of magic in you. It must be a constant. In order for me to get us home, you must not let anything stop you from thinking pure thoughts. We are trapped in a dimension that is neither light, nor dark, but what we make of it. I need us both home...both together safely.”

“You’re scaring me a little here, Tara. I’m dark, but I’m not dark? What?”

“There’s not time yet; not here. I’ll guide you later, if you choose me. Do you choose me, Willow?”

Willow didn’t need to think of that question at all, but one nagging question did float in her thoughts. “Did you find out if you’re demon? Are you controlling me through a demon side with the flow of magics or are you a Witch? How do I know, Tara? This family of yours is..well, they’re not especially charitable.”

Tara took Willow’s hand and placed it over her chest. “Feel me.”

“Um, okay, feeling, but what does...”

“Shhhhh, Willow. Listen inside. Feel. Me.” Tara dipped her head, her eyes locked onto Willow’s. She blanked her mind and felt where her hand lay across Tara’s breast, just over her heart. Twinkle lights, fairy lights, incense, candles, tarot cards, an older grandmotherly figure with the same eyes, just more creased from age, as Tara’s. Then a younger woman, in her 30’s, with the absolute look of Tara, both women hand in hand, smiling gently at Willow, or was it Tara they were smiling at? 

Willow opened her eyes. Tara was still waiting for a reaction.

“I never should have doubted you. I’m a mess and everything is happening so quickly...I...I can barely get my head spun on.”

Tara steadied herself. “Willow. This next step. We need to do it together. What are some of your favorite memories to get us back home? The energy needs to flow, like water over a rock bed, to be recharged with positive ions. Your thoughts need to be pure.”

“I’ll think of you, Tara. I’ll think only of you.”

Quickly, Tara nodded and smiled. “I’ll think of you, too.”

They linked hands and the voices of women, centuries of women, or maybe it was only the essence of what Willow thought to be Tara’s grandmother and mother’s voices embedded with their own...whatever the case, a dizzying spin into an array of white light took her into a numbness, a tingling of her body and senses. As she looked at herself she saw she was turning into a similar mist as did Tara upon her arrival and her sister upon departure.

They were going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Critiques welcome because I’m striving to be a better writer. Open for honest communications.


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